


Burn Again

by TigereyesF



Category: Thranduil - Fandom
Genre: A Mother's Prophecy, Adding More Tags As They Come To Mind, Author Likes To Reply, Death, Denial, Destruction, Determined Elleth, Elf magic, Erotic Thranduil, F/M, Feasts, Good Against Evil, Guilt, Legolas Is A Peacemaker, Sex And Passion, Soulmates, Thranduil Love, Thranduil Lust, Thranduil Sex, Two Halves Make A Whole, Violence, Who Can Write About Thranduil And NOT Put Sex In There Somewhere, Y'all Will Want A Black Stallion With Thranduil After This, comments welcome, death everywhere, developing magic, hostility, stubborn Thranduil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-05-16 07:12:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 52,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19313209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigereyesF/pseuds/TigereyesF
Summary: Thranduil has been having the same dream for three hundred years - dark blue eyes. A chance attack on one of the villages in his realm puts him in front of the face behind those eyes, and he panics. Untold to anyone, he has fallen in love with those eyes over the centuries, but feels he can't act on his feelings because of his deceased wife. Instead, he treats the elleth in question with contempt and is rude and mean to her.She too has a secret. The prophecy passed on by her dying mother states that she will have a strong magic awakened only when she has truly bonded with her soul mate. What happens when she discovers that the soulmate in question is none other than the arrogant, cold-hearted elf King? Will she be able to thaw his chilled heart enough for him to let her in? Or will he keep his mask of indifference firmly in place and remove her once and for all?Elu - Sindarin for blue - battles for her place in the world and in Thranduil's as he does everything he can to push her away. Will he give in and realise that he needs his little Bluebird? Will he give in and let love Burn Again?





	1. Chapter 1

** CHAPTER ONE **

****

_“Shed no tears for me, my precious child.”_

_Hot tears rolled down the young face, burning the skin and leaving trails in their wake._

_“Do not leave me,” the elfling sobbed. “You cannot leave me.”_

_The older elleth took a pained breath, the arrow protruding from her chest shifting slightly with the strained effort. “My time is almost done,” she wheezed. “But listen to me, and listen well. You must heed my words.”_

_The dark curls bobbed as the child shook her head stubbornly. “No! No! I will not. You have to stay with me!”_

_Frail fingers clasped the youngster’s smooth ones in a firm grip. “Much rests on your shoulders,” she gasped. Blood flowed steadily from the wound. “You must choose your path into the future with care. Do not haste – take the time you have at your disposal and make your decisions wisely.”_

_The child continued to weep._

_“A deep, true magic lies within you. It will come to life fully only once you have given your heart, your soul, and your being to your soulmate, and not before. He carries within him the power to ignite your inner magic. Follow your instincts, my child, and greatness will surpass all that is dark.” The elleth closed her eyes, exhausted._

_The youngster at her side held her breath._

_“Promise me,” the elleth rasped. “Promise me that you will find your true soulmate. Promise me.”_

_“I promise,” she sobbed._

_The strength ebbed from the hand holding hers, and the grip weakened._

_“NO!” the elfling screamed. “NO!” She leapt to her feet, her head turning in a blind panic. “NO!”_

_The stable doors crashed open and bounced off the holdings._

_“Elu!”_

_Her blurred eyes moved to the form of her father, stood towering in the doorway._

_“Come!” he urged, reaching towards her as he closed the distance between them._

_“No!” she screamed. “I cannot leave her here!”_

_“Elu, she is beyond our help,” he said as he whisked her up into his arms. “There is nothing more we can do, my child.”_

_She wriggled and screamed as he carried her out into the woodlands, her heart breaking for the dead mother she was being forced to abandon._

_Her cries went unheard._

*****

The rustling of the leaves overhead drew ice blue eyes to glance upwards. A gentle breeze toyed with the green canopy, moving the growth subtly. Birds chirped and tweeted merrily as they flitted from tree to tree. Rabbits hopped among the hedges and thick foliage. Squirrels darted up the bark of the trees carrying nuts.

The hooves of the horses thudded quietly onto the forest floor as they trudged through. Leaves crunched under their weight as they passed.

Thranduil closed his eyes briefly as he fought off the familiar pain of a pounding headache. Not usually being prone to headaches, he found that they were beginning to drain him when they made their presence known. On certain mornings he awoke with the same tense, tightening feeling which steadily increased as the day went on. By the time darkness was settling over his lands, the pain was almost intolerable.

He relaxed as he rode, his deep trust for his horse allowing him to let the animal take him home without guidance. His mind automatically switched back to the dream he’d been having for a long time; the one which was inevitably followed by the splitting headache.

Years.

Decades.

Over three hundred years.

The dream didn’t come to him every night, but it did reach out to him through the thick haze of sleep several times in the run up to each full moon.

Dark blue eyes, just staring into his. No face, no hint of who the eyes belonged to. Simply the dark blue irises, framed by long, thick eyelashes.

They unnerved him.

The expression in them never altered, never changed. He was constantly faced with the haunting stare each time he experienced the dream.

He seldom dreamt, and never of anything else when he did dream.

Always the eyes.

Squaring his shoulders in determination, he shifted his focus back to the present. His company of guards kept pace behind him on their long journey, the only noise being that of the horses as they made their way through the dense woodlands.

“My Lord! My Lord!”

He pulled his mount to a halt, twisting round on the animal’s back and frowning as he caught sight of one of his patrol hurtling through the undergrowth towards them. The ellon came to a stop just a few yards from him, panting and with flushed cheeks. His mount danced sideways in nervous anticipation.

“What troubles you, Aileron?” Thranduil asked.

The newcomer breathed hard. “My Lord, orcs are making their way towards the holding several miles south of the Grey Hills,” he breathlessly informed his King. “We found their tracks and followed. They are but a short distance away from the village. The Prince is holding off advancing until you are made aware.”

A few seconds passed.

“Return to your patrol,” he decided. “We shall head for the settlement and ensure that those who reside there do not come to any harm. Convene with us on our arrival.”

“Very good, my Lord,” Aileron said with a bow. He turned his horse immediately and disappeared at speed back in the direction he had come from.

Thranduil turned to his guards. “Upon our reaching our destination, we will split into two groups. The first, led by myself, will dispose of the threat of the orcs attacking, and the second, led by Melderion, will ensure the safety and well-being of the villagers. Let us proceed and protect our own.”

He turned his horse and galloped swiftly through the forest with his guards at his back.

*****

Elu closed her eyes and breathed deeply. A feeling of deep-seated peace flowed through her as she closed her mind off from everything around her and concentrated on the task at hand.

Or in her case, the task at her fingertips.

A tingling energy slowly began to filter through her body as she concentrated, and she willed her mind to dive deeper as it gradually wound its way throughout her entire system. The pads of her fingers lightly touched the wilted blossom placed on the stone in no more than a silken caress.

The tingling grew stronger and she opened her eyes.

A smile curved her mouth as the yellow rose began to unfurl and open before her eyes. Very slowly, each petal uncurled and regained its true colour, the brown edges disappearing to give way for the rich yellow to flow back.

She groaned in quiet disappointment as the progress halted and began to reverse, turning the blossom once more into a shrivelled, dried mess. Taking a deep breath, she began to concentrate again in an effort to bring life back to the flower.

Her eyes flew open as the sound of terror reached her ears.

Screams and yells. The clashing of metal. Growls and distorted shouts. Black speech.

_Orcs._

Her heart thudded as she leapt to her feet and fled towards the opening of the stable.

Her village had turned from a serene, peaceful utopia into a scene of carnage and death within seconds. Orcs swarmed everywhere, cutting down her friends and neighbours at each turn. Lifeless bodies sank to the ground to be stepped over or trodden on.

“Elu! Get inside and stay hidden!”

Her head turned and she came face to face with her younger brother.

“Stay out of sight!” he repeated as he breathed hard. The sword he carried was already stained with black blood. “I will come for you when it is safe!”

“I can help!” she called after him as he spun away and took off.

“No!” he roared over his shoulder. “Stay hidden!” He disappeared into the crowd, his weapon slashing wildly as he attacked the orcs.

She gasped as one of the beasts swung his sword in a wide arc, taking off the head of her childhood friend.

Her best friend.

The elleth who had grown up alongside her and had left their village with her when they were mere elflings fleeing to safety.

Her shocked eyes darted to the right as the thundering of hooves sounded. A legion of elves raced out of the forest and charged into the chaos that was unfolding. Arrows flew in all directions and the clanging of metal against metal reached deafening levels as they threw themselves into the battle.

Several dismounted and fought on foot, while the remainder stayed on horseback and fought from a slightly higher advantage point.

One by one, the orcs began to fall, their thick blood staining the grass at the horses’ feet.

Elu screamed as a meaty hand grabbed her throat, pushing her backwards into the shadows of the stable. Her terrified eyes met the evil ones of a massive orc, much bigger than his counterparts.

*****

Thranduil wasted no time as he unsheathed both swords, sliding from his still-moving horse’s back and landing with a thud on both feet. His blades swept through the air, fuelled by anger and hatred as he began slaughtering the vile creatures that had plagued his lands for centuries. Blood spurted from the wounds he inflicted as he fought a path through the heaving mass.

He caught sight of Legolas, crouched up on a high wall firing arrows rapidly. Each one hit the intended target with deadly efficiency, and he leapt effortlessly to the ground, brandishing his knives and tackling the nearest orc.

Guards filtered through the crowd, each one intent on his task of ridding the village of the intrusion and saving as many elves as possible in a short time. The screeching of blades clashing split the air along with agonised screams and roars of anger. Buildings blazed as a few of the orcs set fire to them, the flames spreading quickly.

The King spun around and slashed his weapons outwards, relieving an orc of his head as he moved. The corpse crashed at his feet and he booted it swiftly aside as he marched forwards.

“Please help me, my Lord!” an elleth screamed.

His head whipped round towards her. Two orcs had hold of her, dragging her towards the burning wooden buildings. He quickly crossed the distance, driving both swords into the stomachs of the creatures and slicing upwards. They released their hold on the petrified elf as they slumped to the ground. She wobbled unsteadily on her feet, shaken and dazed by how close she’d come to a certain death. A quick bow of her head, and she fled past him to the safety of the forest.

“Legolas! _Gar estil!_ ” he roared, catching a glimpse of his son’s air of defeat as he battled on.

The prince nodded once in his direction, feeling a fresh surge of energy at his father’s words.

_Have faith._

The two of them led their companies, aided by Melderion, and rapidly cut down the threat to the innocent villagers. More bodies fell, more blood was spilled.

“Pull back!” Thranduil shouted over the racket as the battle began to wind down. Victory was theirs, with only a spattering of the enemy still alive and fighting.

The guards and the Prince’s patrol obeyed, slowly edging back towards the middle of the village.

“My Lord! My Lord!” an anguished voice called.

He glanced down at the ellon on the ground who lay with his back propped against an overturned wagon.

“My sister,” he gasped. “My sister is in the livestock stable. She is not safe.”

“I shall return with her,” he replied, turning on his heel and striding away. His cloak swished against his calves as he marched through his guards in the direction of the large stable which was located on the other side of the village.

He stopped as he stepped inside, his gaze sweeping the interior. An orc stood with his back to him, a morgul blade raised above his head. At his feet lay a bloodied and beaten elleth. Her eyes were closed.

Stepping forwards on silent feet, Thranduil drove his sword through the back of the beast until the tip protruded from his chest. A horrible gurgling sound came from the orc as he crashed to his knees.

One twist of the blade ended his life.

He sheathed his weapons and lowered himself to lift the elleth.

She was still alive, although unconscious.

Her head rolled back over his arm as he carried her out of the enclosure, her long black hair trailing down past his knees as he walked.

“Your sister lives,” he told the ellon who had begged for his aid as he approached him. “You shall be taken to have your wounds treated. I will provide food and shelter until this village has been rebuilt.”

“Thankyou, thankyou my Lord,” a weeping elleth sobbed, falling to her knees before him. “Thankyou.”

“Arise,” he said. “We must bring you to safety and to medical attention as quickly as possible.” He turned to Melderion. “Ensure the survivors are brought to my halls. Return and bury their dead.”

“Yes, my Lord,” the loyal guard said with a bow.

The King turned back to the ellon sat against the wagon. “Are you able to walk?” he asked.

“I would hopefully presume so, although I may not be as fast on my feet as usual,” he answered, struggling to stand.

“Remain where you are, my friend,” he told him. “My guards will assist you and your kin. They will take care of your needs. I shall depart and take your sister to my healers. She is in dire need of treatment; I feel her strength leaving her.”

The ellon nodded gratefully with tears in his eyes. “She is all I have,” he whispered.

Thranduil’s eyes moved to the female in his arms. “And so she always will be,” he replied. He looked back at her brother. “Worry not. She will be looked after. You will see her upon your arrival.”

“Thankyou, my Lord,” he said, still in a strained whisper.

He nodded and turned, carrying the elleth towards the horses which had grouped together on the outskirts of the village.

*****

The palace courtyard was a flurry of activity as guards and servants hurried about their tasks, artfully dodging one another as they wove their way back and forth. Thranduil watched through tired eyes as he stood at one of the windows high up in his home. Below him, the workers moved horses, settled animals, fetched bedlinens from the stores, brought food and water, and such like.

He blinked slowly as he turned away from the window.

“Father, you should rest,” Legolas said quietly.

Ice blue eyes flicked in his direction. “There is still much I must take care of,” he replied. “I cannot rest until each and every one of the injured has been looked after and is comfortable.”

“The healers will see to them,” his son told him. “Will you accompany me for something to eat? You must be famished; you have not eaten since this morning, and it will be dark soon.”

“I do not have the luxury of time to sit and eat,” Thranduil responded as he moved across the floor in graceful movements. “I intend on assisting the healers for some time. Melderion informs me that they are beginning to tire. The wounded are many; they have drained the healers working on them.”

Legolas followed his father out of the room into the hallway. “Be sure and rest before dawn,” he told him, touching his arm in an affectionate gesture as he turned away.

Blue eyes followed him as he walked away. The flickering lamps mounted on the stone walls cast shadows around him as he moved.

Taking a deep breath, the King turned towards the healing rooms and made his way down to them.

Inside, masses of wounded elves lay either on beds, sitting on seats, or propped up against the walls. Scores of them had been injured, with many having fallen as the orcs had viciously attacked. Even the presence of the Royal Guard hadn’t been enough to stop the slaughter, but he took a little comfort from the fact that it would undoubtedly have been worse had they not been there.

He stepped carefully around the groups sat on the floor as he crossed the halls. “Assana,” he said, speaking to the head healer. “An update, please.”

The elleth looked at him with exhausted eyes. “We are working to the limit, my Lord,” she answered him. “We have sadly lost three more since they arrived, even as we tried everything within our powers to save them.”

“Do not lay guilt at your feet,” he said. “I had thought myself that perhaps a few were past the point of saving. Nevertheless, you tried.”

“Yes, my Lord,” she said with a bow of her head. “We still have more to see to, and are working our way through them. We began with the more seriously wounded.”

“Very good. I will assist in your task,” he told her.

“Thankyou, my King,” she replied. Her voice carried a weight of gratefulness. “We are in dire need of all the help we may get.”

He shrugged his cloak from his shoulders and draped it over the back of a seat, leaving himself in his silver grey tunic and soft grey leggings. “Which would you have me tend to first?”

Assana waved a hand towards a group of elves to their left. “These souls still require attention,” she told him. “As yet, I have been unable to get to them.”

“Rest easy, Assana. I will begin with them,” he replied.

She nodded and left his side with a short bow, returning to the patient she’d been working on.

Thranduil spent the next couple of hours carefully and patiently healing the wounded elves. He cleaned wounds, applied healing herbs, bandaged them, and channelled his own unique magic; a magic not gifted to the healers in his kingdom. Darkness was beginning to settle over the lands by the time Assana appeared at his shoulder.

“My Lord, we all thank you for your help, but you should perhaps consider resting,” she said quietly. “You will be exhausted; you have not stopped using your powers since you came down here.”

He lifted his head, closing his eyes and breathing deeply through his nose. “I am well,” he said, opening them again. “There are only a few more to attend to.”

“And we will deal with them, my Lord,” she said. Her words held a gentle insistence. “Please…rest.”

He smiled slightly. “Very well,” he conceded as he rose to his feet. “I am not in a condition to have you ordering me around.”

She grinned. “And you know I do it only because I care about your wellbeing,” she replied. “This realm needs a King; _we_ need our King.”

“Duly noted,” he drawled. “Alert one of the guards if you require me through the night.”

He walked away from the healer, making his way across the floor towards the main doors. Groups of elves smiled and nodded at him as he passed, looking much healthier and more settled than they had on their arrival earlier in the day.

He glanced a little to his right hand side as he moved, catching sight of an ellon sitting up on a bed chatting to an elleth with long dark hair. He recognised him as the one who’d begged him to help his sister, and acknowledged to himself that the female he was speaking with must be the sister he’d taken from the stable.

The elleth lifted her head and looked at him as he passed.

His step faltered.

His heart stopped.

A burst of energy shot through him.

Her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

** CHAPTER TWO **

****

Dark blue eyes met his and burned into his soul.

He knew those eyes.

Better than he knew his own.

It was _her_ eyes he’d been dreaming of for over three hundred years.

She looked back at her brother, not missing a beat in the conversation.

Thranduil hastened his steps and quickly left the healing rooms, where he stopped in the hallway and leaned back against the hard stone wall, heaving air into his lungs. His heart pounded like galloping hooves, and his head was spinning.

She’d only glanced at him in passing, and hadn’t acknowledged him or given any indication that she knew who he was. But it had been enough to send shock waves through his entire body and soul. He’d removed his crown immediately on his return to the palace, shedding his armour in the process. Without prior knowledge of him, she probably had no idea that he was the King of the realm.

He purposefully slowed his breathing down in an attempt to regain some sort of control. Grinding his teeth together, he shoved himself away from the wall and marched towards his chambers. The guards at the entrance of the royal wing hastily stepped aside as he strode in their direction.

The doors to his chambers crashed closed behind him with a loud boom that echoed throughout the corridors. Storming over to the large glass doors, he threw them wide open and stepped out onto the balcony, where he closed his eyes and breathed in the cool night air.

His heart still pounded furiously in his chest, reminding him of the shock he’d just had. The headache that had been lingering threateningly over the last few hours came to the fore with vengeance, thumping hard at his temples.

This elleth was making him ill.

Several minutes lapsed before he turned and went back inside and grabbed the bottle of dark red wine that awaited him on his table. A few drops spilled as he hurriedly sploshed the liquid into a glass, but he didn’t notice. He needed to escape from the feeling that his chest was being crushed; his soul being torn to shreds; his sanity being completely and utterly destroyed.

Who was she? And what was the meaning of the dreams he’d had for all those years? Why had she suddenly appeared as clear as day in his palace? What was her purpose?

His hand shook slightly as he set the glass back onto the table. Tilting his head back, he sighed; a long, deep sigh that spoke of decades of weariness and fatigue. Decades of being haunted and plagued by the same dream, over and over and over.

Relentless in the pursuit of dismantling his cool, calm demeanour.

For years he’d pondered the reasoning of the recurring image that came to him on a regular basis. He’d turned over every conceivable possibility in his mind, looked at it from every angle, dissected every possibility that had come to him.

Still he’d reached no conclusions.

But the eyes had never been far from his thoughts.

Deep, dark blue, they had a mysterious look to them. Tiny flecks resembling sparkling white gems lived in the depths, glittering as the eyes blinked. Long, thick dark eyelashes that framed the stunning orbs. The sense that those eyes could see into his very soul.

And the concrete knowledge that the owner would change his life, irrevocably, forever.

He knew that without a shadow of a doubt, but he was damned if he was going to allow it. He’d built a strong, impenetrable wall around himself, his thoughts and his emotions over the centuries. And that wall was not going to be demolished at any cost.

His eyes moved to the soft light of the moon as the clouds shifted, allowing the light to shine in through the still opened doors. With a shake of his head, he kicked his boots off and nudged them aside with his toe. The need to sleep was overwhelming, and he gave into it as he crossed over to the large bed that dominated the sleeping area of his chambers.

He threw himself down on his back and folded his hands across his stomach. Troubled eyes gazed up towards the roof in the darkness, his mind equally as troubled.

*****

“I would estimate that we have lost just over half of the village,” Ealan murmered. His sad gaze swept the healing halls which were still reasonably active given the late hour. His eyes shifted to his sister, who sat cross legged on the edge of his bed. “That is a _lot._ People who can never be replaced.”

Elu nodded slowly. “The orcs have caused damage which we will be unable to repair,” she agreed softly. “Like you say – these were friends and neighbours that cannot be replaced, ever. Gone…just like that.” She snapped her fingers for emphasis.

“You must make a point of thanking the King,” he told her. “If it were not for him, you yourself would not be here.”

She frowned slightly. “The King himself rescued me?”

“Yes. He was recalling his guards and I told him that you were still in the stable. He went straight away and brought you back. And from what I hear, his arrival was not but a moment too soon,” he answered.

She lifted her eyebrows in mild surprise. “I will indeed give him my gratitude, both for saving my life and those of the friends we still have,” she said. “You shall have to point him out to me, for I have yet to meet him.”

Ealan frowned. “He has been down here for hours,” he told her. “He has been assisting the healers and tending to the wounded.”

Her eyes widened. “The tall elf with long, blonde hair?” she squeaked.

Her brother nodded.

“Oh my…he looked right at me as he passed on his way out,” she said. “And I did not even acknowledge him! He must think of me as being so rude!”

“I would not think so,” he assured her. “I think he has more pressing issues on his mind at the moment. Do not stress over this; you will have your chance to thank him, for he has stated that we will all stay here in the palace until our village has been rebuilt.”

“That is very generous of him,” she said. “A far cry from the tales I have heard over the years of a cruel, vicious ruler who has no tolerance for others.”

“I have warned you not to pay attention to gossip and rumours,” he laughed. “All they cause are trouble and wrong beliefs. You should know better than that, my sister.”

She punched his shoulder half-heartedly. “Nevertheless, what you are telling me is the opposite to what I have heard regarding him. I heard stories of an angry King, one who would chop the heads off those who opposed him without a second thought, and who starved his prisoners until they were no more than piles of dusty bones in his dungeons.”

Ealan laughed heartily. “You are taken in far too easily,” he chortled. “I had the honour of meeting him once, many years ago. He was very polite, very regal. I saw nothing indicating the nonsense you have heard.”

She grunted. “Time will tell,” she said. “Although his act of helping us this day speaks of someone who selflessly put his own life and those of his guards on the line to help total strangers. I dare say a barbarian would not have done so.”

“No, he would not,” he replied as he shifted his legs a little. “My dear Elu, I must rest; I am exhausted and I am in dire need of sleep.”

She smiled. “I shall leave you and go to my own bed,” she said. “I think the females have been given use of the other room across the hall from here, so I will not be far. Rest well my brother, and I will see you come sunrise.”

“You also,” he replied with a smile.

She slid off the bed and walked over the floor, making her way to the specified room where the elleths would sleep through the night. Makeshift beds had been constructed to allow them sufficient rest, and she chose the one nearest the doorway. The mattress was soft and inviting as she sank down onto it, and the blankets were warm.

She turned onto her side and pulled her knees up, twisting the covers tightly around herself as she closed her eyes and settled down.

*****

Thranduil could not sleep.

No matter how hard he tried, rest was elusive and evaded his reaching grasp. The day’s events churned around in his mind as he thought over what had happened. What had started out to be a routine patrol in the woods had taken a turn for the worse and ended in a mindless slaughter. An entire village completely destroyed, precious lives lost needlessly, and those surviving now homeless and destitute.

His heart ached.

The disease of the orcs still festered on his lands, even after centuries of ending the lives of every single one he or his guards came across. Still they bred, still they rampaged through his realm, and still they took lives in nothing other than a horrific act of terror. Sometimes he wondered if he and his people would ever be free of the torment and the constant worry.

He rolled over and heaved a deep sigh.

At least his headache was slowly improving, the pain no longer hammering inside his skull. His eyes drifted closed as he concentrated on the sounds of the night filtering through the balcony doors which he had deliberately left open. The soothing sounds calmed his soul a little and soothed the aches within his mind.

Almost immediately, his eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright.

Something was amiss, and he blinked in the darkness as he struggled to work out what it was. Something was wrong, something needed his attention.

And quickly.

Bare feet landed on the thick rug as he swung himself out of the bed and grabbed his robe. He shrugged into it and tied the belt as he made his way to the doors of his chamber.

The guards stationed in the hall glanced round at him in surprise, but neither of the two uttered a word. He passed them in silence, his long strides carrying him through the darkened palace.

Following his instinct, he found himself heading towards the lower levels, in the direction of the healing rooms. He wasn’t sure why he was going there, but he allowed his inner spirit to take him where he was needed. Nobody had come to inform him of any problems, and no-one had sought his help.

But he knew he was needed down there for some reason.

“My Lord,” Assana exclaimed in surprise as he presented himself in her work space. “What brings you to us at this hour?”

He frowned, his sharp gaze sweeping around the hall full of elves; some asleep, some almost sleeping. “I do not know,” he murmered. His eyes turned back to his most trusted healer. “I felt that I was needed.”

Assana’s hazel eyes blinked. “We have encountered nothing which would require me to rouse you from your rest,” she replied. “Although…”

“Yes?” he prompted.

She sighed. “One of the elleths is having trouble settling this night,” she told him. “Several times she has screamed and cried out in her sleep. I fear she is plagued by nightmares of what happened. I have been unable to ease her suffering.”

Thick, dark eyebrows came down in a frown. “What have you tried?”

“I made a tonic to help her go into a deeper slumber, but it has not had any effect,” she answered. “I dare not give her any more, else she may be unconscious for days. I did not deem it safe to administer more.”

He nodded. “Take me to her,” he commanded.

She nodded once and turned to lead him towards the quarters designated for the females. His heart sank into the pits of despair as he followed her, knowing instinctively which elleth she referred to. Unsure of how he knew, he quashed the uneasy feeling that rose from the pit of his stomach as they crossed the hall together.

“She is in here, my Lord,” Assana said as she stopped outside the closed door. “Her bed is the first one.”

He wordlessly opened the door and stepped into the darkness.

He was correct.

The elleth was indeed in a state of distress. She rolled on the bed, tangled up in the blankets which covered her. Her breathing was erratic, and she was covered in sweat. Her arms flailed as she attempted to escape the terrors that followed her in her sleep, pushing the blankets in a vain attempt to free herself. Her voice broke the stillness as she screamed; a harrowing sound which turned his blood to ice.

He stepped forwards and sat on the bed, touching his palm to her forehead.

A jolt of energy shot through his arm and into his body, making him jump.

Her dreams appeared in his mind as clear as a bell.

Orcs. Black blood. Bright red blood. Carnage. Slaughter. Screaming. Burning. The feeling of a heavy hand tightening around his throat. The sensation of being pushed backwards to fall onto a solid floor. Blows from the same heavy hand as it struck repeatedly. Free-flowing blood. The terror of impending death.

The images and feelings changed.

He felt the unspeakable grief of a small child. A deep feeling of anguish and sorrow, of loss and fear. He saw an adult elleth lying before him, an arrow embedded in her chest as she struggled to breathe. As he watched, she ceased her fight and her life left her. The grief from the child increased considerably as she stopped breathing.

He clenched his teeth together as he closed his eyes. His power flowed through him and into the elleth he touched, easing her terror and removing the horrible images from her mind.

No matter what her significance was, or how much he rebelled against her presence, she deserved to rest undisturbed. What she had seen and experienced should not rob her of her sleep, and he made sure she would have peace for the remainder of the night as his magic slowly filtered through his calming touch.

Her breathing changed almost immediately.

She settled under his hand, breathing slower. Her body stilled as the fight drained from her and she fell into a deeper state of unconsciousness, a state where the terror and fear could not reach her.

Satisfied, he withdrew his hand and rose to his feet.

Assana’s eyes met his as she stood silently in the doorway; a thousand questions that she dared not voice in the depths. Thranduil glanced at her as he passed her, not saying a word. She closed the door again and followed him a few steps.

“Alert me if I am needed,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away.

“Yes, my Lord,” she said softly, watching him go. His tall figure disappeared into the darkness, and she shook her head slightly as she went back into the healing rooms.

*****

It was a tired King who appeared at the Council meeting the following morning. Legolas glanced at him in concern, noting the dark shadows under his eyes.

“Did you sleep, Father?” he queried.

“Some,” the reply came.

The younger royal knew he was lying. “Not enough, I would wager.”

Ice blue eyes met his in a glare. “I am old enough to decide what is enough rest and what is not,” he retorted. “Do not think me incapable.”

“I do not,” his son said hastily. “I am merely concerned, that is all. You look worn out and exhausted. I have not seen you this way in a long time.”

Chairs up and down the length of the long table scraped across the floor as various nobles took their seats.

“You have nothing to be concerned over,” Thranduil said, his eyes watching the council members as they entered and seated themselves. “All is well.”

A few of the Lords inclined their heads towards their King as a way of greeting him without speaking. He in turn did likewise. Once they were seated, he spoke.

“I have requested this meeting this morn due to the unfortunate events of yesterday,” he began. His rich, deep voice carried the length of the large room they were seated in. “As you are all aware, there was an orc attack of the village which lies south of the Grey Hills. Many of the elves were slaughtered – innocent victims in yet another unprovoked attack.”

A murmer of discontent rippled around those gathered.

“This is the third attack this year, my Lord,” one of the nobles spoke up. “We have increased the patrols as you ordered, and we have had a little success, but the problem still persists.”

Thranduil eyed him. “You tell me that which I already know,” he said. “Tell me something which I am unaware of. Give me answers as to how you would deal with this incorrigible situation.”

The Lord stammered, his cheeks turning red. “We…we have done what you required us to do, my Lord,” he stuttered. “I see only a little improvement on the problem.”

One eyebrow lifted. “Nothing to suggest?”

The noble’s head shook regretfully.

Legolas cleared his throat. “May I suggest an all-out attack on the orcs?” he said, trying to break the tension that was building rapidly. Something had upset his father, something other than the previous day’s attack. He just didn’t know what it was.

His father turned to him, staring down at him. “You would go to war against them?”

He hesitated. “Yes. I can see no other way. We will have to rid Middle Earth of them completely in order for peace and tranquillity to drift over these lands.”

Thranduil inhaled through his nose; a slow, precise practice, as he mulled over the Prince’s suggestion.

“I agree with my Lord Prince,” another noble said. “And the sooner, the better. When these foul beasts are not killing our kind, they are rampaging through the realm helping themselves to whatever takes their fancy. Be it food, shelter, livestock…the problem can only grow, my King.”

“Agreed,” he said. Snapping his fingers, he signalled for a glass of wine from a servant who stood to the side in silence. Within seconds, a full glass appeared before him. “But first we rebuild the destroyed village.”

Soft gasps did the rounds amongst those gathered.

“Would it not be best-“ one began.

“No, it would not,” he interrupted. “The village is rebuilt, and the elves returned to their own homes. I want them out of the palace as soon as possible, without delay. Afterwards, we shall deal with the nuisance of the orcs, and not before.”

Silence.

“If that is what you wish, my Lord,” the ellon said quietly.

“It is not my wish; it is my order,” he snapped. “See to it that a company is despatched forthwith to begin the reconstruction. Once completed, we shall handle the orc situation.”

The noise of chairs scraping against the floor sounded again as various Lords got to their feet and hastily left the meeting room. Legolas turned to his father once they were alone.

“Do you wish to talk about what is troubling you?” he asked, taking the proverbial bull by the horns.

“No.”

The Prince sighed as he too rose to his feet. “Very well. You know where I am should you change your mind.” He left the table and made his way towards to exit.

“Legolas.”

He turned at his father’s single word.

Ice blue eyes met his in a cold, hard stare. “Ensure that the elleth that I took from the stable is rehomed as soon as possible,” he ordered. “I want no delays. Have her back in her own village forthwith.”

The Prince nodded, turning away again.

Whatever had upset his father was connected to this elleth he spoke of. Intrigued, he decided he’d seek her out and find out exactly what it was that had disturbed the ruler so much that he’d prioritised rebuilding the village over fighting the orcs.


	3. Chapter 3

** CHAPTER THREE **

****

Elu sipped her tea, unaware of the tension mounting around her.

Word had begun to spread amongst the King’s staff that he was reluctant to shelter her, and whispers travelled rapidly around as everyone tried to surmise why. Thranduil was known across Middle Earth for his impatience and cold, detached demeanour, but this was a different angle for him. His servants knew he wouldn’t throw the elleth out to fend for herself, but they were taken aback at his impatience to have her out of the palace.

And with no reasoning behind his motives, everyone was wondering what was going on.

“Did you sleep well?”

She turned her head and smiled at Ealan. “Yes, I did,” she responded. “Although I had some strange dreams which I cannot explain.”

“Pray tell,” her brother pushed as he helped himself to some warm bread. “What did you dream of?”

Her cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink. “I dreamt of the King,” she said quietly, her head lowered. “I dreamt that he sat on the edge of my bed and placed his hand on my head. I remember feeling so peaceful, like nothing in the world mattered.”

Unseen to the two elves in conversation, Assana moved away from behind them, having heard the dialect.

“Have you taken a fancy to our King?” Ealan teased.

“Be quiet,” she retorted. “No. I have not. It was a strange dream, like I said. I do not know where it came from.”

“Perhaps it was a leftover from our conversation last night,” he said. “We _were_ talking about him, and you’d had no idea he’d walked past you.”

“No, and I still feel bad about that,” she sighed. “I never lack manners, Ealan, you know that. To have ignored him and failed to acknowledge him is the biggest insult I can imagine.”

He scoffed. “You worry too much,” he mumbled through a mouthful of bread. “I am sure he has more important things to think about than you not acknowledging him. Listen to yourself.”

She glared at him. “It is considered one of the deepest insults to ignore the King,” she hissed. “It is merely a step below treason.”

Her brother tipped his head back and roared with laughter. “I pity the poor ellon who attracts your attention, my sister, for he will have his hands full calming your wild thoughts!” he laughed. “If it upsets you so much, you can offer him your apologies the next time you see him. I am sure he will understand; there was a lot going on at the time. And you were unaware of his identity.”

“Something which I am deeply ashamed of,” she said. “With any luck, I shall perhaps see him at some point this day and make him aware of the error of my ways.” Her eyebrows came down in a slight frown as she assessed her sibling. “I assume you will be staying off your feet?”

He sighed. “Alas…yes. The healer has instructed me to leave the healing wing solely for dining purposes, and then to return straight away,” he admitted. “She threatened to drag me back if she had to come looking for me.”

Elu grinned. “She is concerned only about you injuring yourself further, or slowing down the healing process by charging around,” she told him. “You _did_ sustain quite a few deep stab wounds…you are lucky to be up and about this quickly.”

“I am aware,” he replied dryly. His lighter blue eyes swept in her direction. “You are lucky beyond belief that you have no internal injuries. Although I must say…that damned orc took a lot of anger out on you.”

She shrugged, aware of the bruises that covered the left side of her face, the finger marks around her neck, the bruise on her throat, and the deep purple blemishes that covered her shoulder and upper arm. “My injuries are cosmetic,” she answered. “They will heal and leave no lasting damage. You, on the other hand, must rest and take the healer’s advice.”

He huffed. “I _know,_ ” he grunted. “It would not be in my best interests to go against her words. She scares me.”

His sister roared with laughter, drawing the attention of some of the elves seated nearby having their meal. “You are but a fragile little thing, are you not,” she teased, to be met with a snort of derision. “You did not display this kind of acquiescence towards any other female I have ever met.”

Ealan glared at her.

Her mouth opened as it clicked in her head. “Oh my…oh, I understand _now…_ ” she chuckled. “You like her, do you not?”

“I do not,” he mumbled. His cheeks took on an alluring shade of pink, and Elu noticed it straight away.

She giggled to herself at his embarrassment. “I shall say not a word,” she promised. Pushing her cup aside, she rose to her feet. “I am going to see if I can help out somewhere here. The King has been overly generous with his hospitality and I wish to do something to repay that kindness if I can.”

“Enjoy yourself,” he answered as she turned and left the table. The heat hadn’t left his cheeks.

Elu wandered around the palace unhindered, as none of the guards stopped her or obstructed her. Nobody seemed to be in need of any help, no matter who she asked. The servants had everything under control in the kitchen. The laundry workers refused her offer of assistance, telling her they were running on perfect schedule. The housekeepers and maids also waved her away, advising her to relax and enjoy her time in the Mirkwood realm.

Heaving a sigh, she found herself heading out across the courtyard towards the work space where repairs were being made to saddles and armour. After some sweet talk with the servant toiling away there, she settled herself down on the straw-covered floor and began trying to free thick vines that had become entangled in the leather straps of one of the saddles.

The knife she borrowed from the servant was sharp, but not sharp enough to slice through the coarse growths. Her teeth sunk into her lower lip as she worked it feverishly in an attempt to cut the sturdy vines. Back and forth she sawed the blade, giving it a sharp tug as she felt them finally give.

The blade flew upwards at speed and like lightning, a hand shot out from nowhere and grabbed her wrist.

Shocked, she turned to see Thranduil leaning over her.

“That blade would have torn your face open,” he hissed angrily. “What do you think you are doing? Were you not hurt enough by those orcs?! You intend on inflicting more harm upon yourself?!”

Fear arced through her and she tried to pull free, but his grip remained firm.

“I…I was trying to do something to help,” she stammered. “Your hospitality has been-“

“Enough,” he cut her off. “You are but a fool when it comes to a blade. You should not be attempting something of which you have no knowledge or experience. I do not need more wounds to have to try to heal.” His fingers gradually relaxed around her wrist, and she slowly retracted her hand and dropped the knife, keeping her eyes on his.

Swallowing, she took a deep breath. “I apologise for not acknowledging you yesterday, my Lord,” she said quietly. “I had no idea of your identity, and with all my heart I did _not_ intend to disrespect you or anger you in any way.”

Cold, ice blue eyes stared into hers.

“And I wish to convey my gratitude for saving my life.” Her voice had fallen to a whisper, and her cheeks burned with shame as she lowered her gaze to his booted feet.

A long silence hovered over them.

His feet turned away and he strode across the floor. A few hushed but angry words later, and he turned and walked away, leaving her sitting on the floor wondering how she had managed to rile him so badly.

“My lady, the King has stated that you may polish some armour if you still request some chores,” the servant said as he approached her.

She nodded slowly, holding her hands up for the breast plate, polishing rag, and oil  that he held.

“If you find yourself in a situation where you absolutely _must_ use a blade, always cut away from yourself rather than towards yourself.”

She turned at the voice, to see Thranduil had stopped in the doorway and had turned back to face her.

“Yes, my Lord,” she said. Her voice held only a slight tremor.

Satisfied, he turned away again and disappeared out of sight.

*****

Hidden away in the sanctuary of his private library, Thranduil closed his eyes as he took deep, calming breaths. He’d been shocked when he’d entered the workspace to find the elleth with the blue eyes on her knees working away with a blade, more so because of the dangerous way she was using it rather than the fact that she was actually doing something useful.

The other elves who’d survived the village attack were either resting as they healed, or lazing around doing nothing. The ones who were fit to be up and about seemed to be acting against the elvish nature of busying themselves; idleness was rife in his palace and it angered him. He’d put the lives of his patrol on the line to save them, and they appeared content to await the reconstruction of their village at their leisure.

The elleth in the work yard however, had caught him completely unawares. She was the only one to make an effort and apply herself to something, as dangerous as it was because of how she had been going about it.

But she had tried, nevertheless.

None other had.

The image of the way she’d looked up at him from the floor drifted into his mind. Her eyes had been filled with a mixture of thoughts and emotions; fright and fear being the most prominent ones.

She feared him.

Good.

He intended to keep it that way, and keep her distant from him. As far as he was concerned, the further away, the better. He didn’t need her in his life, and he certainly didn’t want her. His teeth clenched together as he drew in a deep, cleansing breath. The rebuilding of her village couldn’t happen quickly enough even if it happened overnight.

*****

“My lady, you will tire yourself,” a concerned voice said, making Elu twist around and look over her shoulder.

“Good morning, Brelia,” she answered with a grin. “Do not concern yourself; I am absolutely fine.”

The maid stepped forwards with a slight frown on her perfect face. “Is the King aware that you are working?” she asked. “I am sure he would not have asked you to do such tasks and chores, my lady. He brought you all here to rest and recuperate, not to have you as unpaid workers.”

Elu’s grin widened. “I think he is aware that I wish to occupy myself,” she replied. The hot, soapy water splashed over the massive metal tub as she scrubbed the bedsheets. “I cannot laze around as though there is nothing to be done. The King has gone out of his way with what he has done for us, and this is my way of trying to repay him.”

“He seeks no payment,” Brelia assured her. “My King does not do things for payment from others. He rescued you and your friends from the orcs because as elves, that is what we do. He would not stand down and see an innocent village slaughtered – it is not his way.”

“I understand. He is so different than I expected,” she said as she began lifting the heavy linen and wringing excess water back into the tub.

The maid moved closer and helped her. “There are so many rumours and misgivings regarding my Lord,” she said. “And it hurts me to hear them. No-one has the right to make assumptions regarding him, especially if they have not even had the honour of meeting him. And yet they continue to do so.” A sad sigh left her.

“Unfortunately we cannot control what others think,” Elu remarked. “Which is a pity. However, I now know that what I have heard is completely untrue. In fact, words that have reached my ears through the centuries could not have been further from the truth.”

“I shall not dare to ask that which you have heard,” Brelia muttered as she wrung the fabric. “The whispers that drift across these lands harbour no good feeling towards our King, and there are many of us who are deeply angered by them. And those who whisper them.”

“I cannot blame you,” she answered. “He has shown exceptional hospitality, care, and patience. I see nothing of the cruel, heartless ruler people speak of.”

“Do not let him hear you repeat such things!” the maid whispered anxiously. “Even though we know it to be untrue, he becomes angered when these words reach him. He has toiled relentlessly for thousands of years to build this realm and to keep it safe. He protects us with his life, and his payment is nothing short of evil, malicious gossip.”

“I understand,” Elu nodded. “I suppose that for some people, no matter how much good is done, they will still find fault. I do not remember the elvish communities being like that years ago.”

Brelia snorted as she dragged the heavy bedlinen out of the tub. “I know the answer,” she grumbled. “Our kind have spent far too much time interacting with other races, and have picked up their undesirable ways as a result. Sometimes I think that our moral code has gone forever, with the way I see how people treat one another. You are correct – in days gone by our standards were different.”

“And yet I see the old ways here in the palace,” Elu said. “They thrive here, which is a refreshing thing to bear witness to.”

Between the two of them, they dragged the linen into a tub of fresh water to begin rinsing out the soap. Chatting as they worked, it wasn’t long before they had rinsed and wrung out several sets of sheets, and proceeded to carry them out to the yard outside at the back of the palace.

“Why am I not surprised to find a guest out here doing chores?” an amused voice asked.

Both elleths turned to see Legolas advancing towards them.

“My Lord Legolas,” Brelia greeted him with a deep bow.

“My Lord,” Elu repeated, also bowing.

“Relax, ladies,” he grinned. “I do not come to chide you over working. I merely ask after your well-being, my lady.”

She blushed. “I am well, my Lord,” she replied. “I thank you for your concerns.”

“Your participation in assisting with the daily chores has not gone unnoticed,” he told her. “I assume Brelia is not over-working you?”

The maid lifted one eyebrow at him, causing him to roar with laughter.

“I jest,” he said. “I know that she will look after you. Although I do not need to say this, but there is not one here who expects you to work.”

“It is my wish, my Lord,” Elu told him. “Yourself and your Father have been more than gracious to my people, and I only wish to do something towards showing our gratitude.”

He nodded, his long blonde hair drifting over one shoulder at the movement. “I understand, although it is not a condition of the care you receive. I hope that you are aware of this.”

“I am,” she assured him with a smile. “Truth be told, I cannot sit around idle. I much prefer to keep myself busy and occupied. The day is long with nothing to fill it.”

“That is true,” he acknowledged. “My Father is holding a feast two moons from now; I assume that both of you will be attending?”

The two women exchanged surprised glances.

“It is being held for your friends and families,” he explained to Elu. His eyes turned to Brelia. “And I ask that you would do me the honour of accompanying me, my lady.”

His mouth curved into a smile as the maid’s eyes widened.

“Y…yes, my Lord,” she stammered. “I would be delighted to, with my Lord Thranduil’s permission, of course.”

He tilted his head. “That has already been sought and received,” he told her. “I believe your brother will be escorting you, Lady Elu.”

Her eyebrows rose in mild surprise. “One would be mistaken for assuming this has already been planned and arranged,” she said with a laugh. “Yes, I shall accompany Ealan, and my sincere gratitude for your kind invitation.”

Legolas conceded the point with a little bow and a gracious smile. “Think nothing of it,” he replied. “Both my Father and I have noticed the amount of work that you have done here over the past few days, and we are both grateful for your efforts. But please do not slave away needlessly, my lady. It is neither expected nor warranted.”

Her cheeks took on a slight pink hue, and she said nothing.

“Brelia…I shall arrange for a selection of gowns for you to choose from,” he continued, turning to the maid. “Please select that which you feel will be most suiting for you.”

The maid blushed furiously, much to Elu’s amusement.

“Yes, my Lord,” she replied with a dip of her head.

“I shall leave you ladies to it,” he mused, and strode away back towards the palace.

Elu looked at Brelia. “Would I be wrong in assuming that the Prince has a soft spot for you?” she teased.

“Oh hush,” she whispered. “I am sure he only invites me out of pity, nothing more. I cannot think why else he would wish to be seen with myself, especially not in such a public setting as a feast arranged by the King himself.”

“I would think it is because he _wishes_ to be seen with you,” she said. “I somehow do not think the Prince would invite you otherwise. I have the feeling that he and his Father are both one and the same on that level – neither will do something solely for political reasons, or from what they feel is right or required. I think they would both only do certain things because that is what they truly want.” Throwing the huge bedsheet over the rope hanging between the trees and straightening it out to dry in the sun, she stepped back and wiped her hands down the front of her skirts. “May I do your hair for the event?”

Her friend looked surprised, but nodded. “If you wish,” she answered. “What do you intend to do with it?”

She grinned. “Something special,” was all she told her, mischief sparkling in her deep blue eyes. “Something absolutely out of this world.”

*****

Thranduil sat upright in his large bed. Bare-chested, the silky sheet fell to his waist and tangled around his long legs. The darkness surrounded him, bringing with it a small sense of comfort.

He frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed.

Elu was on his mind.

Yet again.

He’d observed her at various points throughout the day, toiling harder than any of his servants. She’d helped the farrier by holding one of the horses while a new shoe had been put in place. She’d been doing laundry; he’d seen her taking it out to dry. She’d fed the pigs and mucked out his elk’s stall while he’d been out for his daily charge through the forest.

He’d swept through his halls in search of his son and caught sight of her teetering on a chair, polishing a crystal chandelier, carefully removing the candles one by one as she worked before replacing them. He’d shaken his head with a grunt of annoyance and continued onwards, ignoring her.

He’d heard two of the maids talking between themselves about how she’d sat with them mending tunics and stitching garments that needed repairing. They’d gushed about how wonderful she was, and how graciously she’d spent time helping them.

He’d grunted again.

Everywhere he went, all he heard was praise for the wretched elleth that had haunted his dreams for centuries, and it was wearing him down. Anger bubbled in his blood as his rage festered inside him. She had to go, and fast.

And come hell or high water, she _would_ be leaving. With or without her consent.


	4. Chapter 4

** CHAPTER FOUR **

****

The feast was in full swing.

Thranduil’s ice blue gaze swept over those gathered in the Great Hall as he sipped from his glass of wine. The rich red liquid did little to soothe his troubled soul or lift his dark mood.

Elves of both genders laughed, danced, and ate heartily. Most of them were drunk, and his eyes narrowed in distaste as he watched inhibitions disappear altogether under the influence of the free-flowing alcohol. People who would not normally give one another the time of day were dancing closely, flirting with each other, or attempting to discreetly disappear from the festivities. Hands wandered, kisses exchanged, and not-so-subtle looks passed between the genders.

He snorted softly to himself.

His gaze settled on the elleth who was still continuing to be a thorn in his side. She had arrived on the arm of her brother; a likeable soul with the heart of a warrior but sadly lacking the discipline to carry it through.

Her gown was deep blue with a midnight blue velvet bodice, which laced tightly under her bust. The style accentuated her slim waist and flaring hips, and the skirts served only to make her legs look even longer as the fabric caressed them, reaching the floor at her feet. Her hair cascaded down her back like a blue-black waterfall, sweeping past her hips as she moved. Small blue and white flowers had been worked into the braids on the top of her head, leaving the back to flow freely.

As he watched, she tipped her head back and laughed. The sound reached his sharp ears, and he huffed silently as he slammed his wine glass down onto the table. A servant immediately refilled it, then hastily stepped back.

His attention turned towards his son, who was seated with the elleth and her brother, along with the maid who he’d requested would be allowed to accompany him. All four of them were laughing hysterically at something, and appeared to be having a thoroughly enjoyable time.

Thranduil’s frame of mind turned even more sour.

He had no wish to know what the source of hilarity was, or what they’d been talking about almost the entire evening, sat huddled closely together. Such trivial nonsense didn’t concern him in the slightest.

The burning presence in his soul however, did. He’d noticed that any time the elleth was nearby, his soul almost seemed to ignite in awareness. He didn’t even have to see her to know when she was close. No words needed to be exchanged or uttered. He always knew. Several times throughout the days since she and her folks had come to the palace, he’d experienced the strange feeling. It started out as a subtle tingling, growing to a buzzing in his blood, eventually erupting into a full-blown assault on his system. It hadn’t taken him long to realise that it always happened whenever she was around, and it infuriated him no end.

He snapped out of his thoughts as his son appeared beside him and claimed the empty seat next to his.

“Father,” he said by way of greeting.

“Legolas.”

“Are the festivities meeting your expectations?” he enquired.

One eyebrow lifted disdainfully as the King took another drink of his wine. “It is a feast, like any other,” he replied. “They are very much one and the same after all these years.”

The Prince signalled a servant and requested a glass of wine. “I had thought that perhaps you would make the time to speak to Elu,” he said.

Ice blue eyes fixed on the younger royal. “And pray tell…who is Elu?”

“The elleth you rescued,” he replied, nodding in silent thanks to the servant as a full glass was set before him. “The one who is single-handedly repaying the debt of her people for your rescue.”

“Elu… _blue_ ,” Thranduil whispered. “Her name means blue.”

Legolas stared at his father for a second or two. “Yes. As I was saying-“

“Blue, like her eyes,” he interrupted. His glass thumped back onto the table, sploshing drops of dark red wine onto the pristine white cloth. “I am cursed…”

His son frowned in confusion. “What do you speak of?”

Anguished eyes met his as he wrestled with the thoughts hurtling around in his head. “I am cursed,” he repeated in the same agonised whisper.

The Prince shifted his glance to the wine glass before lifting back to his parent’s once more. “You are not making sense,” he murmered.

“I cannot speak of this here,” Thranduil said with determination. “We will speak later, in a more private setting. I must leave here now.” He started to rise out of his seat, but Legolas placed a hand on his arm.

“Please stay for a while,” he said. “I know that many of those we rescued in the orc attack wish to convey their gratitude, and are waiting for an opportunity to do so. It would appear rude if you were to ignore them and leave.”

The King’s jaw clenched as he ground his teeth. “Very well,” he agreed stiffly. “But I do not intend to remain here all night. I will take my leave shortly.” His head snapped up as the sound of Elu’s laughter reached his ears again.

Legolas’s eyes narrowed as he studied his father, but he kept his questions to himself. He pushed his seat back and stood up, taking a deep breath as he did so. “I will return to my friends,” he said.

Thranduil nodded once, not looking at him. His gaze was fixed on the elleth dressed in blue.

She spoke with her hands, gesticulating frequently to emphasise what she was saying. Her brother and the maid were listening intently, although her words were lost to his ears with the distance between them.

She turned her head suddenly, her dark blue eyes locking with his.

Her smile vanished.

_Never_ had she seen such a cold, hard look aimed at her. And he was staring directly at her; there was no mistaking it. Sheer hatred blazed from his eyes, and he didn’t blink as he continued to glare at her.

A cold feeling settled in the pit of her stomach, and she swallowed nervously as she tore her gaze away.

He leaned back in his chair, the slightest hint of a smirk curling one corner of his mouth. Round one to him. She’d looked away first, and her cheeks had turned pink in shame as she’d done so.

Beside her, Ealan and Brelia were deep in discussion, and unaware of the discomfort she was feeling. She reached for her glass of wine and took a healthy mouthful.

The first time she’d set eyes on the ruling monarch, without knowing who he was, she’d been stunned by his looks. Tall enough to tower over everyone else in the palace, and with the longest, blondest hair she’d ever seen, he’d unknowingly taken her breath away. His cheekbones seemed to have been sculpted by the Gods themselves, and they’d given him a full mouth that screamed sensuality if it was ever to be kissed. His eyes had struck her as being the most unusual she’d ever had the pleasure of looking into; ice blue framed with dark lashes. Those eyes gave the impression that they had seen a million things, every one of which had been committed to memory.

The second time she’d found herself face to face with him, his eyes had been blazing with restrained fury as he’d grabbed her wrist in a grip that left no doubt in her mind that he could snap her bones like twigs if the notion took him.

She inhaled deeply and took another swallow of her wine, remembering the incident with the vines and the horse’s saddle.

She’d seen very little of him in the few days that had followed, save an odd glimpse here and there as she’d busied herself doing whatever she could turn her hand to. More often than not he’d sweep past her in a flurry of heavy, expensive robes, not casting a solitary glance in her direction or acknowledging that he even knew she was there. So what had caused his anger? What had she done to irk him to the point that he was blatantly glaring at her across the table, surrounded by hundreds of fellow elves?

She turned and pasted on a bright smile as Legolas reclaimed his seat.

“Have I missed anything interesting?” he quipped as he helped himself to a loaded forkful of blackberry pie.

“Only Melderion tripping over the gown of the lady he is dancing with,” Brelia answered with a giggle. “He went sprawling in all directions, and almost took her with him.”

The Prince shook his head. “He is rather clumsy when he has consumed too much wine,” he remarked. “Luckily for him, that lucky lady is his wife, and she is used to his behaviour. I have no doubt that she will make him pay for a new gown if he has ruined the one she wears this night.”

Elu laughed. “Then it would serve him right,” she said. “Perhaps he will learn to be more light-footed and nimble on the dance floor in future.”

“Would you do me the honour of dancing with me, my lady?” he asked as he held his hand out towards her. “It seems a shame that you have not been on the floor yet, and Ealan is in no condition as yet to dance with you. So I wish to have the pleasure, if my lovely companion does not mind.”

Brelia waved him away. “I do not mind,” she said. “For I have consumed a little too much myself to get up. Go and enjoy yourselves, with my blessings.”

Legolas stood back up, helping Elu to her feet and leading her to the middle of the floor. A space cleared instantly, allowing for the heir to the throne to have room to dance with his chosen partner.

The music flowed around them as they moved. She relaxed, acknowledging to herself that at least she was away from his father’s penetrating gaze for a few moments.

“What troubles you, my lady?”

Her eyes lifted to the bright blue ones that looked back at her, and she forced a smile. “Nothing, my Lord,” she replied. “Why would you think otherwise?”

“I sense a deep melancholy,” he answered honestly. “One which was not present before we entered this hall. It concerns me a great deal.”

“There is nothing to be concerned over,” she assured him. Involuntarily, she glanced over his shoulder, to see his father again staring at her. A shudder rippled down her back as she assessed the venom in that look. “Everything is fine.”

“You lie badly, Elu,” Legolas said. He lifted her hand and twirled her around, then drew her back close to him. “Tell me the truth, please. I ask as a concerned friend.”

“I seem to have annoyed your father,” she said quietly, after a few moments’ silence. “Every time I catch his eye he is staring at me in such ways as to make me think that I have done him a great dishonour. But I do not know what that dishonour might be, my Lord. And without knowing, I have no way to make amends.”

The Prince considered her words as they danced. “My father is concerned with many matters regarding the realm at present,” he said finally. “His mind is otherwise occupied, and I am certain he bears no ill feelings towards you.”

“Perhaps,” she murmered. “Maybe I am just being too self-conscious, but it _does_ seem like every time I speak to him or see him, he treats me with a sense of disgust.”

He laughed. “My father treats _everyone_ with disgust,” he told her. “Seriously – do not worry yourself over this. He has a solid wall built around him that very few – if any – can penetrate. Even myself. He has been like this since my mother died, many centuries past.”

Her head lowered. “I am so sorry,” she said.

“Do not be,” he said. “I have resigned myself to the fact that it was the way history was meant to be written, and nothing anyone can do could ever change that. No matter how much myself, my father, or anyone else wishes otherwise, what happened, happened. We must move on and live our lives, no matter how difficult it may seem.”

“Wise words. You will make a fine King someday, my Lord,” she told him.

He tipped his head in response. “I do not know if I wish to rule the Mirkwood realm. My father does an excellent job, and I have no desire to step into his role.”

“Perhaps not now, but some day,” she replied. “One never knows what the future holds.”

Little did she know just how true her words were.

*****

The wine wasn’t working.

Thranduil had drunk glass after glass after glass, but the expensive alcohol failed to dull his senses. Every beat of his heart echoed with the knowledge that Elu was nearby, and each thump of the organ in his chest sent ripples cascading throughout his body. He’d eventually given up and after chatting with some of the elves from the destroyed village as politely as he’d been able to manage, he’d left the feast and stormed off to his private chambers. The thick wooden door closed off the outside world, and he leaned against it with his eyes closed, drawing in deep, calming breaths.

He was doomed.

He shoved his weight away from the door and paced across the thick rug towards the balcony windows. Throwing them open, he breathed in the cool night air, absorbing the smells and sounds of his lands shrouded in darkness.

Elu’s blue eyes appeared in his mind; clear, hypnotising, and searching.

His heart began thumping harder. His skin tingled.

She was somewhere close.

He turned from the balcony, grinding his teeth in frustration. The feeling only intensified, and he clenched his trembling hands into tight fists as he fought against it. His temper burst through and he lashed out in rage, punching the small wooden table at his side.

Shards of glass from the empty wine glass which had been left for him shattered and shot in all directions.

*****

Elu came to a sudden stop in the dimly-lit corridor. Her eyebrows came down in a slight frown as her ears picked up the sound of glass smashing and shattering. A low howl of pain reached her ears, and her heartbeat accelerated. She lifted her skirts and hurried towards the sound, halting outside a heavy, ornate door. Muffled noises could be heard as she pressed her ear to the wood, and she cautiously opened the door.

A gasp left her involuntarily as her astonished eyes fell on Thranduil.

He stood facing her, holding his right hand in his left as blood poured from deep wounds. Anguished blue eyes lifted to hers as a look of shock crossed his face.

“Get out,” he growled.

She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. “No.”

His eyebrows rose in astonishment. “Did you not hear me? I said get out.”

“And I said no,” she snapped, irritated at his attitude with her. Moving swiftly across the floor, she gripped his left wrist and pulled his hand away, taking his right in hers. “What have you done?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” he hissed.

Angry eyes glared up into his. “You may be my King, and you may have the final say on everything that occurs here, but I am _not_ leaving you like this.”

Rage pulsated from him in waves. “I do not give you permission to be here,” he told her. “Get out.”

“You are insufferable,” she shot back. “You may punish me later, but at this moment I am going to fix this, with or without your consent, _Your Highness_.” Sarcasm dripped from her words.

He glared at her in silence as she marched away from him and into his bathing area. She returned within a few moments with clean bandages, a small bowl of water, and several small bottles. Setting them down onto the window ledge, she grabbed his right fist and hauled it towards her.

He clenched his jaw.

He’d finally met someone who matched his stubbornness.

Peeling his fingers open, she quickly but carefully cleaned the two deep cuts. Both of them stayed silent as she worked, the only sound being a wince of pain as she pulled a fragment of glass free.

He studied her as she tended to him. Her long black hair drifted over her shoulders and the ends tickled the back of his hand as she moved. The urge to lift the silky lengths back over her shoulder shocked him; he didn’t want to touch her. He didn’t want her anywhere near him.

Warm hands worked at speed as she cleaned the flowing blood and pinched the torn flesh together. A dab of lotion from one of the bottles was applied, making him hiss in pain again. Her eyes briefly lifted to his, then lowered back to what she was doing. Another cream was applied, and she murmered soft words in elvish as she used her thumb to work the paste into the cuts.

One of his eyebrows lifted in surprise.

She was _healing_ him?!

The flesh of his hand tingled as though his blood was fizzing and bubbling below the surface, and it made him feel uncomfortable. She smoothed on a third lotion and began wrapping the bandage tightly around his hand. Stepping back with a deep breath, she finally looked up at him.

“The cuts are not as bad as they appeared to be,” she told him. “The alcohol you have consumed this night caused the blood to flow faster. You should be completely healed within two days.”

He nodded, staring down at her work.

“I shall take my leave.” The ice in her words made him look back at her.

“I offer you my gratitude,” he said.

“It is not required, my Lord,” she replied coldly as she turned on her heel.

He sighed in frustration. “You do not understand,” he said between clenched teeth. “You can _never_ understand.”

She turned back and met his hard look with one of her own. “Understand what, my Lord? The fact that you treat me with utter contempt, when I have done nothing to invite your misgivings? The fact that you treat my friends with dignity and respect, yet you look at me as though I am descended from orcs?”

His eyes narrowed. “You know nothing of what you speak,” he hissed. “ _Nothing!_ ”

“I know that I do not deserve such palpable hostility,” she retorted.

“Then leave,” he snapped.

“I fully intend to! As soon as the first building of my village is complete, I shall be gone,” she said angrily. “I will not suffer your cold intolerance any longer than absolutely necessary. I have given you my gratitude for saving our lives, I have apologised for not acknowledging you that night, I have done everything I can in an attempt to repay you for your actions, yet you still cast your eyes away from me as though I am a servant of Darkness. It is neither my intention nor my wish to remain in such contentious conditions. _My Lord._ ” Again, she used his title with venom.

He strode towards her, making her go back a step. “Work is being carried out on your village as we speak,” he snarled. “In fact, I fully intend on making the journey myself come the morning to inspect the progress. The sooner the restoration is completed, the better!”

“Yes, for all of us,” she snapped. She whirled round and stormed out of his rooms, slamming the door closed as she left. Her whole body trembled as she walked down the corridor away from him.

Back in his chambers, Thranduil stood in the middle of the large room. A solitary hot, silent tear trickled down his cheek.

He was losing the battle.

He was losing the war.


	5. Chapter 5

** CHAPTER FIVE **

****

It was a strong, determined King who presented himself in the courtyard the following morning. His guards were already mounted and waiting for further instruction as he made his way towards them. Having had a fitful night’s sleep, he’d awoken tired and irritable. The maids had been sent out of his chambers, and his servants had wisely backed off. He’d tended to his morning routine himself, preferring the solitude over chattering and nonsense talk.

His massive black stallion lifted his head at his master’s approach, snorting softly in welcome. The horse danced slightly in anticipation.

Thranduil stopped and held his hand out, giving the animal a small apple and rubbing the velvet-soft nose. “We shall proceed to the village to find out what progress has been made with the reconstruction,” he said to the assembled guards. “Depending on what we find, some of you will remain behind to assist. The rest will return to the palace.”

Melderion nodded. “Of course, my Lord,” he said. “Word has reached my ears that the building is progressing well. The company you sent are working around the clock to ensure completion as quickly as possible.”

“Good,” he said. Gripping the saddle, he swung his weight gracefully up onto the horse and lifted the reins. A solitary hand signal told the guards to proceed outwards, and the gathered horses began filing past him.

His eyes widened as one in particular went past, and he leaned forward, grabbing the animal’s reins and halting it.

Deep blue eyes met his from underneath a hooded cloak.

“What do you think you are doing?” he hissed angrily.

Elu pushed her hood back onto her shoulders. “I wish to see for myself how my village is progressing,” she answered. “I intend on staying behind to assist with the work.”

He scoffed. “What do you know about construction?” he demanded.

“I know more than you give me credit for,” she retaliated. “Like I said last night – I have no desire to remain here.”

He glared at her for a few seconds, before throwing the reins back at her. “Then so be it,” he snapped. “I shall grant your wish.”

She muttered something under her breath as he turned away and he glared at her over his shoulder, but she didn’t repeat it. Instead, she glared back.

He moved his horse onwards, ignoring the tingling that had been in his blood since he’d stepped outside the palace. He hadn’t given it any thought as he’d approached his assembled company, too distracted focusing on the day ahead. As he approached the bridge leading away from his home, he realised why he’d felt the tingling.

The company rode through the woods for the few hours that it would take them to reach their destination. Words were seldom uttered, with most of those present preferring to remain quiet as they travelled. Thranduil rode at the front with Melderion alongside him, and occasionally they exchanged a few words.

Elu rode at the back. She was quite content to remain quiet as she lost herself in her thoughts. Unfortunately those thoughts revolved around the ruler who continued to treat her with disdain. His long blonde hair rippled down his back as his horse moved, and her eyes inadvertently fixed on the beautiful sight.

He’d seeped into her soul without knowing.

She sighed to herself as she acknowledged the fact. When she closed her eyes at night and slipped into the world of sleep, he found her and tormented her dreams. His rich, velvet voice infused into her bones. His ice blue eyes gazed into her soul and pulled out every deep, dark secret she could ever attempt to conceal. Even his unique aroma filtered into her dreams, wafting around her and filling her with awareness.

Snorting softly to herself, she urged her horse a little faster as the group before her were travelling slightly quicker. Thranduil glanced over his shoulder as she caught up with them and fixed her with a cold stare, which she promptly returned with one of her own.

“If I may, my Lord,” Melderion said quietly.

“You may,” he replied, turning back to face forwards again.

“There appears to be considerable tension between yourself and Lady Elu,” the aide said. “Is there anything which you require assistance with?”

“No.” The simple word hung in the air between them for several seconds. “She is leaving us, so the problem will continue to exist no more.”

Melderion nodded. “I understand, my Lord.”

One eyebrow twitched, but the King said nothing further. His aide didn’t know the first thing about the torment that haunted him, or how much it had grown from a slight breeze to a full-force tornado in recent times. He knew nothing about the instinctive awareness of her presence, or the burn that was slowly but steadily smouldering away in the pit of his soul.

And he would not tell him either.

His personal business concerned none around him, save Legolas, who he confided in from time to time. He frowned as he rode, thinking to himself that he really had to have a talk with his son as soon as the opportunity presented itself. The Prince was aware of his unsettled state, but not of the reasoning behind it. He owed it to him to tell him.

The group arrived at the village shortly before midday.

Thranduil cast a critical eye around as he dismounted, his ice blue gaze absorbing every minute detail. Most of the buildings were still derelict and in ruins, but a couple were well on their way to being habitable.

Good.

“Aileron. What is the present situation?” he questioned as his captain hurried towards him.

“My Lord,” the ellon greeted him as he bowed. “Three buildings are almost ready to use, and we have halved our team to allow us to begin the next three. They should be ready within the week.”

“How close are these ones to completion?” he asked, indicating the almost finished ones.

“Two or three days, my Lord,” Aileron replied. “We currently await further supplies from Dale, and upon their arrival it will be all hands on deck to finish them.”

“Very good,” Thranduil commented. He nodded towards a much larger building. “And the mill?”

“Alas, we have not begun with the mill as yet, my Lord,” the captain said apologetically.

A deep frown presented the vertical line between the King’s eyebrows. “None can inhabit this village without the use of the mill,” he said. “It is a basic need that must be accommodated. Make sure work begins on it as soon as possible. I will be leaving half of those who accompanied me this day to assist.”

“Thankyou, my Lord. We will need all the help we can muster if we are to hurry things along,” Aileron replied.

“And as luck would have it, the Lady Elu has decided to remain behind to assist,” he drawled as he turned away.

The guard’s eyes widened briefly in surprise as his gaze settled on the female. “My Lord-“

“It is her wish, and therefore her right,” Thranduil snapped over his shoulder. “See to it that she has somewhere secure to sleep, and set her to work straight away. Melderion, choose which of your company you intend to leave behind.”

The assembled group swiftly dismounted and arranged themselves in some sort of order. Elu slid from her horse and turned him over to the guard who’d ridden before her, then crossed over towards the nearest building.

Thranduil watched her with narrowed eyes.

She stepped inside, her eyes everywhere as she absorbed what had been done and what still needed to be accomplished. There was plenty here for her to do, of that she was certain. She walked from room to room, and ascended the hastily-built-but-secured steps leading to the upper level. The first floor hadn’t been sectioned off into rooms, giving her a full view as she turned in a circle.

She jumped in fright as Thranduil appeared in the doorway.

“Does this meet your requirements?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied instantly. A derelict pit would meet her requirements if it meant being out of his hair. “There is much here that I can do.”

“Good,” he said. “I am sure you will not bother my workers. Follow their orders, and mind the advice they give you – it will be given for a reason. Be punctual each day, and you stop only when you are told to do so. Any insubordination will be reported back to me.”

She took a deep breath to abate the temper she could feel rising. “You do not give me orders,” she hissed.

Ice blue eyes darted to hers immediately. “When you are working with _my_ guards, working on something which _I_ am funding, costing _me_ time and labour – _yes_ I do. You insist on being here, so you will follow the orders given as would any other. That is my final word.”

His cloak swished around his calves as he pivoted to leave.

“What do you want from me?” Her soft question stopped him in his tracks, and she could see the heave of his shoulders as he breathed deeply.

 _I want peace,_ he thought. _I want to never have met you, never to have looked into your blue eyes, for they will be my undoing._ “I want you back where you belong,” he answered instead, and disappeared back down the stairs without looking at her.

She stood where she was, and wondered what the hell she’d done in a past life.

*****

Three days passed.

Elu’s hands were blistered and raw, but she toiled on. The elves around her seemed to work tirelessly, and she was determined to follow suit. Under no circumstances did she want word getting back to the King that she couldn’t keep up with them, or that her work was inadequate. The daylight hours were spent hauling wood for construction, passing tools from one ellon to the other, holding pieces in place to be secured, digging drainage ditches, and building fences where needed. Each night she fell onto a hastily made bed exhausted; the hard mattress a welcome relief for her aching bones and burning muscles.

Her co-workers spoke very little to her. They chatted between themselves from time to time, but kept her at a distance socially. Words of gratitude were given as she helped with a particular task, but nothing other than that. It didn’t trouble her at all; sometimes she felt that work progressed quicker if there was peace and quiet as opposed to constant chatter.

Late-morning on the fourth day, her head lifted as the sound of hooves caught her attention. Others around her did likewise, pausing in their work for a moment to assess the newcomer. Their surprise was evident as Legolas galloped towards them, pulling his horse to a stop and leaping down onto the dirt road.

“My Lord,” Aileron greeted him as he stepped forward with a bow.

“Captain,” he returned. “I am here to seek counsel with Lady Elu.”

A stunned silence fell over those within earshot.

“Of course,” Aileron said.

Legolas extended his arm to beckon her, and she set down the hammer she’d been using, walking towards him.

“My Lord Legolas,” she said by way of welcome. “Are you well?”

“Yes. And you?” he asked as they began to walk side by side away from the workers.

“I am well,” she replied. “May I ask what brings you here?”

He sighed softly. “Your brother,” he answered.

She gasped and came to a stop.

“Please, relax,” he insisted. “He is well. However he is distraught at the thought of you being away from the safety of the palace, and begs for your return.”

Her jaw dropped before she snapped it closed. “I cannot return,” she told him. “I have responsibilities here to complete. The sooner we have the village habitable, the sooner my friends and neighbours can come back to their homes.”

The Prince frowned as he slid her a sideways glance. “There is tension between you and my father,” he stated.

She stayed silent for a few moments as they resumed walking. “Is he aware that you are here?” she asked eventually.

“Would it matter?” he responded.

“Yes. He does not want my presence in his home,” she said. Her words held a trace of cold bitterness, and she looked at her companion. “You say he is troubled with matters of the realm. I feel that it is something far more personal. I feel as though I have wronged him, and he is unforgiving. I do not know how, or when, or why, but it is my gut instinct. No – I cannot return, even for Ealan.”

“He is beside himself with worry, and Assana frets for his well-being when he is so troubled,” he told her. “He does not eat, he does not sleep. She is concerned that he may make himself ill.”

She folded her arms over her midsection and gazed at the trees as they walked towards them. “My brother is not my keeper,” she said after some thought. “He has no bearing to ask me to go back.”

“No, but he loves you unconditionally,” he said. “And so it stands to reason that he worries about you.”

She laughed humourlessly. “I am here with the King’s finest guards,” she said. “What harm can befall me? I am protected here, better than I was before the orc attack. He is aware of this.”

“You are all he has, Elu,” Legolas replied after a second or two. “He spoke of losing your parents.”

Dark blue eyes flashed angrily to meet his, and she looked away again as she clenched her teeth. “He was young when it happened,” she bit out. “He cannot have clear memories. Certainly not of my mother’s death.”

“He spoke of an orc attack.”

She nodded, feeling the waves of pain associated with the distant memory of her on her knees at her dying mother’s side, crying and begging her not to leave her. “It was many years ago; we were mere babes at the time. Our families were unprepared, and many died that day. My mother was one of them.”

“I am sorry,” he said.  “I have very little memories, if any, of my own mother. I too was no more than a babe when she was killed.”

“My father eventually faded from grief within a few years, leaving us to fend for ourselves,” she said. They stopped under the shade of a magnificent oak tree, and she leaned back against it. “To this day, I do not know how we survived. The gods must have blessed us.”

He picked at the peeling bark beside her. “Perhaps you both had to survive for a reason,” he said after a while. “There is a purpose and a meaning behind everything.”

Elu snorted, looking up at the leafy branches high above her. “So they say,” she murmered.

“Will you consider returning, to pacify Ealan?” he asked, turning his attention to her once more. “I wager that he would settle immediately if you were back within the palace grounds.”

“You still have not told me if your father knows of your quest in coming here this day,” she said.

He shrugged in a non-committal manner. “My father knows many things,” he said, ever the diplomat. “Some things he does not require to be told. Some things he already knows.”

“Ha! That is a truly enigmatic response,” she laughed. “One which tells me nothing.” She lowered her head, studying the dirt beneath her feet as she drew circles with her toe. “I will consider your suggestion,” she said after a long pause. “I am afraid I can do no more than that.”

The royal at her side nodded in understanding. “I am aware that whatever has transpired between yourself and my father makes things rather awkward. However, that said, I would ask that you push it to one side and take your sibling into account. He is your blood kin; he is more important than the mood swings of a grumpy monarch.”

Her head tipped back as she laughed heartily. “Oh…you are wicked,” she chuckled. “I would hazard a guess that the _grumpy monarch_ you speak of knows not your opinion of him!”

Legolas snorted. “Like I would utter those words within his hearing range,” he muttered with a smile. “Seriously though – Ealan truly is going out of his mind. I imagine he wonders perhaps if the guards are not lusting after you, or if the orcs are hiding in the woods waiting to pounce on you. Perhaps a dragon or two lurking behind the Grey Hills just waiting on an opportunity to grab you.”

Her grin widened. “Your wicked sense of humour shall catch up with you one day, my Prince.”

“And until that day, I shall revel in the fact that I can see the comical side of otherwise serious matters,” he retaliated. “Have you eaten lunch?”

She shook her head. “No. We have not been given permission to stop for lunch yet.”

He frowned. “You have to seek permission? Yet you are here of your own free will,” he said.

“That may be true, but your father insisted I obey all orders otherwise he will hear of it,” she replied.

“In which case I am giving you permission to have a break,” he said. “Come. You will eat with me. I see your hands are in a terrible state; if you decide not to return to the palace with me, I intend on sending a healer to tend to those sores.” He placed a hand under her elbow and guided her back towards the village.

“I doubt your father would be pleased at having one of his healers disappear,” she said. “I am fine, honestly. I am simply unused to manual work in such a heavy load. Nothing more. They will heal.”

“I am sure they will. However I am not willing to stand by and see a lady with her hands in such a condition. I was raised better than to do such an atrocious thing,” he told her. Approaching the workforce, he tipped his head in Aileron’s direction. “Lady Elu is having a break,” he told him. His tone left no room for argument or debate.

“Of course, my Lord,” the captain replied with a courteous bow.

Nothing more was said as he turned away and resumed his task.

“I can see some resentment may surface over preferential treatment,” she murmered as they crossed over to a table with benches on either side of it.

“It shall not,” he shot back. “Else they will be punished. They dared not challenge my word.”

A smile flitted over her mouth as she sat down. “Like father, like son,” she said mischievously.

One eyebrow quirked in half-hearted reproach. “I think not,” he grumbled.

Within a few moments, a guard appeared and placed some bread, dried meats, and fruit on the table between them, and disappeared again. They ate and chatted comfortably over their lunch, discussing trivial matters.

“So…have you reached a decision?” Legolas asked finally as he pushed the plate to one side and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.

Her eyes lifted to his, and she took a deep breath. “I will return with you,” she said. “On the condition that it is made known that my return is for the sole benefit of my brother; none else. I do not wish for idle gossip and malicious rumours to start circulating. Tolerating the ever-changing moods from your father is difficult enough for me to comprehend and work around, without all others participating.” Inside, her stomach was knotted with both tension and excitement at seeing Thranduil; something she couldn’t explain or understand.

“I will ensure that your reasoning is made public knowledge,” he promised. “It is the business of none why you choose to return, save yourself and Ealan. Will you leave with me immediately?”

She took another deep inhale. “Yes. I must gather the few possessions I have, however. It should not take more than a few minutes.”

“I will go and inform Aileron that you are accompanying me back to the palace,” he said with a nod. “Do not hurry yourself.”

They both rose from their seats, and she left to hurry into the building where she had been resting at night. Grabbing the two pairs of trousers and the threadbare tunic she’d washed and hung up to dry, she rolled them up and stuffed them into a small cloth bag which she slung across her torso. Legolas was standing beside his horse chatting with Aileron as she left the cool shade of the building and crossed to him.

“It has been a pleasure and an honour to have you assisting us, my Lady,” the captain said with a bow as she neared them. “May I wish you a safe journey back to the palace, and for your brother to have a speedy recovery.”

“Thankyou,” she replied with a smile, and turned her attention to her companion. “Shall we?”

“After you, my Lady,” he said with a grin, and ushered her closer to the horse.

She swung herself up into the saddle, and he hopped up lithely to sit behind her. The horse dutifully carried them away from the village and back through the forest, and Elu couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made the right decision with every step the animal took.


	6. Chapter 6

** CHAPTER SIX **

****

The door of Legolas’s chambers crashed open and bounced off the wall. Thranduil stood in the doorway, anger blazing in the depths of his eyes as he glared at his son.

“Who gave you permission to bring _her_ back here?” he demanded. “Who gave you orders? I certainly did not, and as far as I am aware, my title and my status makes me the _only_ one to give orders!”

The Prince didn’t bat an eyelid. “I brought her back for her brother’s sake,” he said calmly, turning the page of the book he had been reading. “He appeared to be weakening without her.”

A fist thumped off the door and slammed it closed as the King stepped further into the room. “I do not care about one pining ellon!” he roared. “I gave you specific instructions that I wanted her out of my palace and back in her own village. She chose to leave, and I granted her wish. You had _no_ right to return with her!”

Legolas placed the book face down on the table and rose to his feet. “Her brother is what I consider to be a friend,” he answered, looking his irate father straight in the eye. “I would not stand back and watch him suffer, or fall back in his recovery from his injuries. Elu is good for him, and he struggles to be away from her. She practically raised him, and she has always been there for him throughout his life.”

“That is _not_ my concern,” Thranduil hissed as he leaned down closer to his son’s face. “I do not involve myself in ridiculous family politics. I do not care about who needs who and the intricacies of relations. What I _do_ care about is that my son has blatantly ignored an order which I gave!”

“I did not,” he replied. “She returned of her own free will. I did not kidnap her, I did not drag her here, and I did not force her to come back. I merely informed her of Ealan’s distress at her absence. Nothing more.”

His father stood back to his full height, exhaling through his nose as he clasped his hands behind his back. “I have no desire to see the wretched female in my Halls,” he said.

Legolas frowned. “What has happened between you both for you to carry such hostility?” he questioned. “One would think she was a dwarf or such ilk.”

Thranduil paced restlessly across the room and back again. “She brings nothing but trouble,” he answered after thinking over his response. “She will undo everything from the past if I allow her to remain here in these Halls. No good can come from her presence.”

“I…I do not understand.”

“No. You do not.” He threw his weight down onto the luxuriously padded couch and stared out of the window. His fists clenched and unclenched, and he crossed one knee over the other.

“Father…talk to me,” Legolas said softly. “Tell me what troubles you.”

A long silence followed.

“I spoke to you once, many years ago,” he said eventually. “I had been having a recurring dream which was giving me cause for concern.”

It took his son a few moments to recall the event his parent spoke of. “The blue eyes,” he said. “You dreamt of blue eyes. That must have been maybe two hundred and fifty years ago?”

Ice blue eyes swept in his direction. “Closer to three hundred,” he replied. “And I still have the same dream.”

Legolas’s own eyes widened in astonishment. “You have dreamt of this for three centuries?”

Thranduil nodded slowly. “Yes.” The affirmation was no more than a whisper. “Three hundred years. In the approach to every full moon. Without fail.”

The Prince lowered himself to sit in the chair across from him. “You have said nothing all this time, save that one time you spoke to me of it,” he said.

“The eyes…they draw me in,” he whispered. “I cannot escape from them. Each full moon I have been drawn closer and closer, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. The eyes are _always_ there; haunting me, tormenting me, troubling me.”

Legolas took a deep breath. “What does this have to do with Elu?” he asked.

His father’s head lifted and anguished eyes gazed into his. “They are her eyes.”

He stiffened in shock. “What?”

The King nodded slowly, looking away again. “The eyes belong to her. She will destroy everything I have ever known. I know that as true as I know my own name. She will be my downfall.”

The younger royal pondered this for a few minutes. “How can you be so sure?” he asked eventually. “Perhaps some good will come of her being here. You are assuming that it is bad, but it may not necessarily be as bad as you think.”

Long hair rippled as Thranduil shook his head. “I will not have her destroy what I have left behind in the past,” he whispered. “I will not allow it.”

“Do you speak of something in particular? You seem convinced that whatever the outcome, it has connections to years gone by,” Legolas said. “A person cannot change the past; they can only change the future.”

Again, he shook his head. “No. My past memories will be forever tarnished and laid out for destruction. I cannot and will not tolerate that.”

“Elu is unaware of this,” his son stated. “Yet she knows that something is amiss; I suspect that is the reason she left in the first place. You have not spoken to her of this.”

“How can I?” Thranduil almost wailed. “How can I give her the key to undoing everything I have ever believed in? How can I give in to what she has done to me over the last three hundred years? How can I give her that power over me?”

“What power?” Legolas asked slowly. “What power does she have over you, Father?”

His parent’s shoulders sagged as his head lowered, and another long silence followed. “The power of love,” he whispered. “I have fought it decade after decade, but I am unable to fight no more. I am in love with her.”

*****

Brelia chortled as she tossed the apple high up into the air. A split second later, an arrow shot through it and smashed it to pieces. The fragments fell to the grass and splattered in all directions.

Elu smirked smugly as she lowered her bow. “I told you, did I not?” she teased. “And you had no faith in me. My feelings are hurt.”

Melderion snorted, nudging Ealan.

“I admit, I was wrong,” Breila conceded. “I apologise. I shall pay heed to your words in the future, my Lady.”

Elu laughed at the sarcasm in her title. “I may be useless with a blade, but I _do_ know my way around a bow and arrow,” she said. “Ealan is the one who is more deadly with a sword.”

“And utterly _hopeless_ when armed with a bow,” her brother piped up. “Which is why I seldom carry one. It would be no more than a mere ornament; a decoration, if you will. Perhaps something to attract the attention of the ladies though…”

She shook her head as she crossed over to sit cross-legged on the grass with them. “I thought you already had your eye on someone..?”

“Who?” Brelia demanded, crashing to her rear beside Elu. “Tell us! Who is it? Is it someone here in the palace?”

“No, no, do not pay my ridiculous sister any attention,” he grumbled as his cheeks turned red. “She has an active imagination and follows it around like a lost puppy when it wanders off.”

Elu lifted one eyebrow and grinned, but remained quiet.

“Has the King spoken to you upon your return?” Melderion asked.

She shook her head. “No. I do not think he was aware that I would be coming back,” she said. “The only reason I did was because the Prince rode out to tell me that this crazy ellon was worrying himself into a mess over my safety and well-being. Otherwise I would have stayed and continued to assist with the building.”

“Nay, it is no work for a lady,” the guard told her. “You are best here, safe in the palace. Let the males do the heavy work. It is our place to carry out such tasks.”

“I will wager that Elu did just as much labour as the menfolk!” Brelia challenged. “Females can work just as hard, you know. Sometimes harder, especially when we have to prove ourselves. Just ask any elleth here. Every one of us gives our best effort.”

“I am neither denying nor disputing that,” Melderion said. “However – _some_ work is considered to be physically too heavy for females. Look at her poor hands! If that does not prove my point, then perhaps nothing shall. Goodness knows what Assana thought when she tended to them.”

Elu smiled. “She said something about being stubborn,” she replied, turning her hands over for inspection. “She applied a healing balm and said they will be healed completely within a couple of days. I am not concerned.”

“She worked wonders on your bruises from the orc attack,” Ealan commented. “I see no trace of the damage they inflicted upon you.”

She shook her head. “No. I was healed within just three days,” she answered. “Every bruise and blemish had gone, all cuts healed. The lady truly works miracles.”

“She has been the head healer here in Mirkwood for hundreds of years,” the guard said. “The King trusts her above all others when it comes to a matter of health. It is seldom that a life ends under her care. If I recall correctly, the lives we unfortunately lost from your village were the first in a very long time.”

Brelia hauled herself up and brushed the grass from her skirts. “I hate to break this up, but I have chores I must attend to,” she said regretfully. “Although I do wish I could stay here outside; the weather is glorious this day.”

“I will lend a hand,” Elu said and bounced to her feet. “I shall become dull and bored if I sit around doing nothing.”

The maid’s face fell in horror. “No! You must not – you have returned for Ealan’s peace of mind, not to go back to working! You must rest and stay with him.”

She snorted in a very un-ladylike manner. “He can take care of himself,” she said. “He can settle knowing that I am around here somewhere. I do not have to be at his side all day and night. Come, I wish to help. Show me what we are going to do.”

“Lose my head if the King discovers that you are falling back into your old ways,” she muttered as she led the way towards the palace shaking her head.

Ealan and Melderion both grinned.

*****

Legolas blinked. “What do you mean?” he asked, his confusion clear.

“I mean what I said,” Thranduil said. His head hung low, his shoulders drooped as his hands dangled between his knees. He’d fidgeted and shifted several times as though he was trying to bring a physical comfort in the absence of an emotional one. “I am in love with her.”

His son inhaled a deep breath, turning his confession over in his mind several times. “You clearly are not comfortable with this,” he surmised eventually. “Have you considered approaching her?”

“Absolutely not! The idea is preposterous,” Thranduil huffed. “There was only ever one Queen and there only ever shall be. No-one can take the place of your mother, and I mean _no-one._ ”

“But surely the fact that you have dreamt of her eyes for all these years means something? Perhaps she will have a significant impact on you, or the realm,” he suggested. “I sincerely do not think that you have been having those dreams for no reason, Father.”

“It matters not what significance she could or would have,” the King said quietly. “For I will not allow it to come to fruition.”

“For what it is worth, no-one is suggesting that Elu could ever replace my mother,” Legolas told him. “But surely you must think of your own happiness. You will not achieve this if you are alone and miserable.”

Thranduil shook his head with determination. “I must protect your mother’s memory. My happiness does not come into it. Her legacy lives on, and will not be replaced by another’s. I will not allow it.”

“Who said anything about replacing it? Father, with all due respect, you are being unreasonable. You have been alone for thousands of years – perhaps it is time that you put yourself before anything else. What harm could it do?”

“I shall tell you what harm it would do,” he hissed, anger blazing in the depths of his eyes. “Your mother left a legacy that can _never_ be touched, _never_ replaced, and _never_ forgotten. I will _not_ allow some passing fancy destroy the memory of her.”

Legolas shifted one ankle over the opposite knee and folded his arms. “Father…I am aware that you have mourned deeply over the years,” he said, his voice soft. “And none can blame you for that. My mother was everything to you. But she has gone, and she will not come back. You are here, alone, still grieving, still bitter. I think that maybe you have paid your dues, and it is time to move on. I think that the flame of love can burn again.”

“Never,” Thranduil whispered.

“It is too late, for it already has ignited within you,” the Prince reminded him. “You are fighting against it, but with all the will in Middle Earth – if Elu has come to you for a reason, then nothing can stop that reason. The fact that you have dreamt of her eyes for three hundred years is a very unavoidable point, and you _have_ to accept that. I feel that you are trying to alter the true course of fate, and that can only end badly.”

His father rose to his feet and paced the room, ending up standing by the window. He gazed out, not seeing the beauty of his lands which lay spread vast before him. “I cannot do that to your mother,” he said quietly.

Legolas shook his head subtly, aware that his parent had his back to him and did not see the gesture. “Have you sought the advice of Lord Elrond, or Lady Galadriel?” he asked.

“No. I do not wish for them to know,” he answered. “It does not concern them. It has nothing to do with them. It is my cross to bear, and I must find a way to bear it.”

A sudden urgent knock at the door drew the attention of both blondes.

“Enter,” Legolas commanded.

One of the servants appeared, looking harassed. “My Lords,” he said. “Taralorn is giving birth in the stables, but she is in difficulty. Both she and the unborn foal are in distress.”

Thranduil immediately crossed the room and brushed past the servant, disappearing rapidly down the hallway. Legolas stood and followed him, thanking him for informing them. He bounded down the stone stairwell and hastened out over the courtyard.

The mare lay on her side, gasping and heaving for breath. Sweat rolled down her flanks, and her legs kicked out as she battled unbearable pain trying to birth her young. Several stable-hands stood gathered around, unsure what to do or how to assist the distressing mother.

Elu and Brelia ran across the cobbles and burst into the sheltered area, where Elu immediately went to the horse’s hind quarters and lowered herself to her knees.

Thranduil glared at her, but said nothing. He squatted down and stroked Taralorn’s head, whispering softly in Sindarin. The animal made a weak noise in response to her master. He moved to her hind section, and Elu silently moved aside.

“I fear this will not end well,” he murmered, peering to see how close to delivery she was.

Elu glanced up a Legolas, who had a worried look on his face.

Without saying anything further, Thranduil eased one hand into the animal, gently feeling around as he touched the foal. Taralorn kicked restlessly, and he whispered soothingly to her. “ _Sedh, thenid mellon.”_

_Rest, faithful friend._

Minutes passed, with only the sound of the mare’s laboured breathing audible. Everyone remained silent, waiting to see what the outcome would be, hardly daring to breathe.

Thranduil closed his eyes and began gently tugging. Taralorn shrieked and kicked, but remained on her side. The tension in the stable increased as he tugged a little harder. One large hand rested on her abdomen as the other continued to pull.

Elu could feel an amazing energy radiating from him, a force which was invisible to the eye but almost palpable. The air around him seemed to change. She took a deep breath and waited as fraction by fraction, his arm began to slowly withdraw from the horse.

Bit by bit, inch by agonising inch, he slowly pulled until his hand emerged blood-soaked, his fingers wrapped around thin legs. Everyone around held their breath, and the atmosphere almost crackled with tension.

Elu glanced at him, but his eyes were closed and he was concentrating on the mare and her young.

More of the foal’s body came into view, with the shoulders, head, and front legs finally breaking free from the mother. Sighs of relief whispered around.

She swiftly moved to his side and slid her hands beneath the youngster as he released his hold. He inhaled deeply and opened his eyes, and with a glance at the newborn, rose and went back to Taralorn’s head. He sat down and she lifted her head, resting it across his knees. A gentle hand stroked between her ears and she closed her eyes.

He looked over at the foal. Elu was on her knees, her hands under the small head as she whispered softly. The youngster showed no signs of life.

“Does the little one live?”

She lifted her head at his deep voice, meeting his eyes. Unshed tears burned her own. “It does not breathe,” she whispered. Her head lowered again.

Thranduil watched her in silence as she closed her eyes, breathing deeply. His own widened slightly as a faint glow radiated from her hands, spreading onto the limp animal she held. Nothing could be heard in the heavy silence. Her head lifted, her eyes still closed, and her breathing deepened. The glow grew brighter.

Suddenly, the tiny newborn kicked out.

Elu slowly lowered her head again and opened her eyes. A small smile curved the corners of her mouth, and she whispered softly. The foal lifted up slightly, before collapsing back against her.

“Come on little baby, you can do it,” she said softly. The glow from her hands began to fade, and she removed them. The youngster lifted its head and blinked groggily, before looking around in a daze.

Taralorn lifted her head from Thranduil’s knees and turned it towards her offspring, making soft snuffly noises. The tiny animal shuffled towards her and leaned heavily against her. A collective sigh of relief rippled around the onlookers.

Elu met the King’s eyes once more and he nodded once. She pushed herself to her feet and left the stable to bathe and change her clothes.

Her work that day was over.


	7. Chapter 7

** CHAPTER SEVEN **

****

Several days passed.

Elu checked on the newborn foal regularly, sometimes several times a day. She often sat with the mother and her baby, curled up in the straw next to them, petting them and speaking gently to them. The mare almost seemed to have an inner knowledge that her offspring was alive thanks to Elu’s efforts, and accepted her presence. The foal himself was always eager to see her, and often trotted over on spindly little legs to greet her on her approach.

Thranduil spoke to no-one of what had happened that day in the stable. Instead, he spent long hours through the darkness assessing what he’d witnessed, the miracle that she’d performed by giving the young animal the gift of life.

Was she a wizard? He didn’t think so.

A witch? No.

But he sensed some deeper magic, an inner light that had glowed bright enough for him to see as she’d worked on the helpless being on the floor. Nobody else had mentioned seeing the glow, and he reached the conclusion that only he had been privileged enough or wise enough to see it. Magic was one of his inbred traits; a gift passed through to him via his royal lineage. He could heal in areas and to a depth where his healers were unable to, and he knew things that no other living being could ever comprehend.

But Elu remained a mystery to him.

His clever mind cast a hundred thousand different thoughts as he tried to work out what it was about her. She wasn’t an angel, and she wasn’t some ethereal being like Galadriel. She seemed to be a reasonably normal elleth, albeit one who’d managed to torment the life out of him and drive him almost insane for three hundred years. The prominence of her eyes had distracted him hundreds of times over the decades, and several times he’d been lucky to escape from battle with his life as his mind had wandered to thinking about the dark blue irises.

The thought came to mind that in times of trouble, her eyes had always come to him in his sleep, not just on the run-up to the full moon. When his son had left the realm in a fit of temper after a heated argument, her eyes had been an almost constant companion until his return several months later.

When Fennion, his closest guard had fallen in battle, her eyes had appeared that very same night. He’d been too distraught to realise the significance, but they’d been with him through the night nevertheless.

He’d spent over a week bedridden under the care of Assana when he’d taken an arrow in his right thigh, and the blue eyes had again drifted to the front of his hazy mind as he’d slept.  The painkilling herbal concoction he’d been given hadn’t dimmed the intensity of the dark blue in the slightest.

He took a deep breath and turned his gaze to the window, watching the first streaks of daylight appear above the tops of the trees on the horizon. His heart and soul were no less restless than they’d been hours earlier, when the skies overhead had darkened and his kingdom had settled down to sleep. Normally the sounds of night were comforting to him as he pondered matters of his realm, but not recently. His spirit became increasingly over-wrought with the knowledge that she was close by somewhere; somewhere in the depths of his palace she was either asleep, or padding around barefoot as she seemed to favour.

In the gloomy darkness of the stable, Elu sat with only a solitary lantern casting a soft light onto the two sleeping animals by her side. The foal was curled on his side leaning against his mother, who dozed peacefully, content in the knowledge that she was within touching distance of her child. The elleth leaned against the mare’s opposite shoulder, gently stroking her mane.

Thranduil’s demeanour towards her had changed. He no longer glared at her and treated her like she was the rebirth of evil.

He simply ignored her completely.

And yet she’d seen underneath the cold, hard exterior the day the little one had struggled to come into the world. He’d shown a tenderness that she’d never seen, and she knew within herself that very few ever saw it, if at all. His compassion for the struggling mare had spoken volumes about who he was as a person, no matter what façade he chose to exhibit to his people. Softly murmered words, gentle caresses, and the manual act of physically delivering the ailing youngster had pulled the horse through her trauma.

She’d never seen someone form such a tight connection with an animal before. And given her ability to heal and use magic, she knew for certain that he had some magic of his own which he’d used to help both animals.

Velvet ears twitched under her gentle hands as she petted Taralorn. The docile horse sighed in contentment and rested her head against her thigh. Peace flowed between the three hearts that beat together.

Unseen, Thranduil stood in the shadows across the courtyard, his eyes focusing on the scene through the partially open stable door some distance away. He swallowed as emotions reared up from nowhere. The elleth who he’d tried so hard to keep his distance from was on the straw-covered floor with the two horses, and the impulse to go to her was so strong, he had to force himself to turn away. He retreated back inside the palace.

She had to go.

*****

Aileron clasped his hands as he studied the figure before him.

Long, flawlessly straight blonde hair tipped over broad shoulders before cascading down a strong back. The curtain of silky hair shifted and rippled as the King turned to look at him. “The village is not yet completed,” he stated. “I will have you tell me why.”

The captain’s eyes lowered to the floor in shame. “The spiders, my Lord…they have set us back considerable time,” he said. “They attacked with no warning and we were completely unprepared for the ambush.”

Cold blue eyes glared at the ellon. “You are guards, are you not?” he demanded.

“Yes, my Lord.”

“And guards are expected to be alert and prepared to go into battle at any given time, are they not?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“And an attacking enemy is not usually so generous as to announce when they intend to attack, are they?”

“No, my Lord.”

“Then _why_ in all that is sacred in this god-forsaken project were you caught unawares?!” he roared, smashing both fists onto the table in front of him. The glass of wine leapt up from the smooth surface and toppled as it came back into contact with it, spilling dark red wine over a pile of parchments. “What lame excuse do you have for your incompetence?!”

“None, my Lord,” Aileron said quietly. “I beg you, my King, please forgi-“

“Silence!” he thundered, furious. “Four guards now lie dead on a cold, stone slab, waiting for their grieving families to collect them. I have to meet with them and explain why their kin breathe no more. I have to apologise and somehow try to rectify _your_ mistake, _your_ lack of judgement, _your_ lapse in concentration. Tell me, my Captain…how do you suggest I approach this?”

Melderion stepped forward, having remained silent. “My Lord, if I may-“

“You may not,” he snapped over his shoulder. His hard gaze turned back to Aileron. “You are confined to the palace and a suitable replacement on the village build will be found. Report to Melderion at dawn. Leave.”

“Thankyou, my Lord,” the captain whispered, bowing his head as he turned and quickly left the room. The door closed without a sound behind him, and the annoyed ruler turned to his closest aide.

“Setbacks which I cannot afford to have,” he said. “Losses I cannot justify. Explanations I do not have. Elvish life that cannot be replaced. Anguished families that I cannot console.”

“I will assist in any way you think best, my Lord,” Melderion said quietly.

Thranduil tipped his head back a little and his eyes wandered to the high roof. The current situation meant that Elu would be in the palace a little longer than he’d anticipated. Ealan wasn’t yet fit to travel, let alone reside in a half-constructed home with no fresh water supply or livestock.

He pursed his mouth. “You may accompany me this night as the families of the fallen come to pay their respects,” he said finally.

“Certainly, my Lord,” he replied. “I had anticipated this task beforehand, and have instructed your maid to select your finest attire and prepare a bath for you.”

The King inclined his head slightly. “I will bathe upon my return,” he decided. “I do not wish to delay what is undoubtedly going to be a harrowing experience, fraught with anguish and sorrow.”

Melderion nodded slightly. “I understand,” he said. “Do you wish for something to eat before you attend?”

He shook his head. “No. That too can wait until afterwards. Come; we shall make our way down to where they will be gathering.”

The two elves left the room and walked side by side down the dark hallway, an uncommon practice in the royal household. Melderion knew his King needed him for what he was about to face, and Thranduil was silently grateful for his loyal aide’s quiet support.

*****

Ealan tossed an orange into the air several times as he eyed his sister. Elu was swinging a heavy mallet over her shoulder, hammering a fence-post into the ground.

“Do you really think that you ought to be doing such a task?” he enquired, bouncing the fruit. “Perhaps one of the stable hands should be doing that.”

She huffed impatiently and used her shoulder to shift her hair out of her eyes. “This has been broken for the last week, and not one of them has bothered to fix it,” she said. The mallet thudded onto the top of the fence post, and it sank a little deeper into the soil. “And they wonder why the goats are wandering off and chewing everything they can find.”

“I still think it is far too heavy a task for you to be undertaking,” he muttered.

“Oh shut up,” she scowled, panting hard. “These things do not tend to themselves.”

“It would seem that we shall be here with his Majesty’s hospitality for some time yet,” he said, ignoring her.

“How so?” The mallet thumped down again.

“I heard word amongst the guards earlier this day,” he answered. “A group of spiders attacked those working on our village and killed four of them.”

Elu stopped, staring at her brother in horror. “Oh no,” she gasped. “What happened?”

He shrugged, still tossing the orange. “Seemingly they just burst from nowhere and started attacking the elves,” he said. “The King is furious, from what I hear.”

“Can you blame him? Each elvish life is precious to him – these are his people. He cares about them,” she said. She resumed her task. “And I would wager he rather fancies having the palace to himself again, as opposed to having us roam around disturbing his peace.”

“I cannot imagine how put out he must be feeling,” Ealan admitted. “Stop what you are doing and share this with me.” He held out the fruit.

She shook her head. “I will rest once this is finished,” she told him. Wiping her forearm across her forehead, she took a deep breath. The cool breeze flattened her tunic against her back, making the damp fabric stick to her hot skin.

Unknown to her, ice blue eyes watched her from a distance. Thranduil scowled and beckoned a farm hand over, issuing curt instructions before turning away and disappearing.

“My Lady.”

Elu turned in surprise.

“My Lord Thranduil has ordered for you to cease your work,” the servant said humbly. “He wishes for you to rest.”

She frowned, glancing over his shoulder towards the shadows of the palace.

“I would listen to him, sister,” Ealan advised through a mouthful of orange. “You do not wish to irk the King, particularly by disobeying him.”

Reluctantly, she released her hold on the mallet and it toppled to the ground at her feet. “Very well,” she said to the servant. “I will do as you have said.”

“Very good, my Lady,” he replied with a short bow.

Her eyes followed him as he retreated, before flickering up to a slight movement in one of the upper windows. The window remained still, and she wondered if she’d imagined it.

“I am going in to bathe,” she said, turning back to her brother. “Are you coming inside? I can take you back to Assana on my way.”

He nodded, awkwardly hoisting himself to his feet. “Yes. I fear she will give me a hard time for being away from her eagle-eyes for so long,” he said. “Are you certain you do not want some of this?”

She shook her head as the fruit appeared before her again. “No. I am not hungry right now. I shall eat come dinner time tonight. Bathing is more of a priority for me just now. I smell.”

He chuckled as he looped his arm through hers, and the two of them slowly walked towards the far end of the palace.

Elu dropped him off with the irate healer, laughing as she backed off and left them to bicker about why he’d indeed been away for too long, and how was he supposed to heal properly if she couldn’t keep a watchful eye over him? She made her way towards the room where the elleths from her village spent each night, with the intention of retrieving clean clothes for after her bath.

Walking with her head down, she smacked into something solid, and bounced back a step with a gasp.

“My Lord,” she said, her cheeks red as she bowed.

Thranduil stood stock still in the hallway, inches from her.

“I apologise,” she said. “I was careless and did not pay attention to where I was going.”

His silence made her hesitantly look up at him.

“I see that yet again you insist on working yourself to the bone,” he said coolly, after a few moments of tense silence.

She swallowed. “I only wish to help where I can.”

He stared at her down his aristocratic nose. “Sore hands…again?” The question sounded more like a sneer than a genuine inquiry.

She opened her hands, turning them over to look at her palms. Two new blisters had appeared on the soft flesh. “Nothing that will not heal, my Lord,” she answered.

He took a step closer. “You have nothing to prove,” he said. His voice was cold and hard. “You have no favours to gain.”

“I do not understand,” she said, blinking in confusion.

The flames of the torches in the corridor flickered, casting shadows on his perfectly sculpted cheekbones. “There are no benefits to be earned,” he told her in a low growl. “None other from your village insist on lifting a hand. Why do you?”

“I am not any other,” she replied instantly. “I do not take and expect to give nothing in return. It is not my nature. It is not what I was raised to believe. I refuse to sit idle and do nothing while others toil on my behalf. My Lord.” His title was added as a hasty afterthought.

He clasped his hands behind his back, rocking on the balls of his feet for a moment or two as he studied her. “Yet you still insist on taking on tasks not meant for you,” he said. This time his voice held a tone that slightly resembled question; perhaps wonder. “I wonder what you can ever hope to achieve from this.”

“Nothing, save my own satisfaction,” she answered.

He snorted softly, and moved to step around her. “I would strongly suggest that you look in the direction in which you walk, rather than at the floor,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away. “Else you will develop a habit of walking into things which cannot be moved.”

Elu inhaled deeply through her nose, irritated at his attitude, his opinion, and his entire demeanour. _He_ irritated her. _He_ annoyed her.

And _he_ had a cataclysmic effect on her.

Each time she set eyes on him, her insides began to quiver. Her knees trembled. Her palms began sweating. Her throat constricted, and her heart beat faster. Her words seemed to disappear on an errand of their own, abandoning her to form some sort of verbal interaction of her own accord. Most of the time, she failed.

Shaking her head with a low growl of frustration, she marched towards her intended destiny for her clothing. Any thoughts of the King had to be shelved. Preferably permanently.

*****

Elu emerged from the shared dormitory-like room, feeling fresh and clean having bathed and changed. She’d picked comfortable dark grey leggings and a long tunic top that reached halfway down her thighs. Her long hair smelled of citrus, with the waves bouncing gently down her back as she walked towards the healing wing to check on her brother.

Her head spun round as a volley of shouts and yells met her ears.

Hoards of guards and soldiers rushed past the bottom of the corridor, hastening to reach their destination. Their armour clanked and rattled as they hurried onwards, the sound of their weapons echoing along the stone towards her.

Curious, she changed direction as hurried towards them.

They continued to stream past her as she reached them, the only face she recognised being Melderion’s as he came to a halt next to her.

“We are under attack, my Lady,” he panted. “Please remain in the palace for your own safety. All available guards are attending and we will have the situation under control as soon as possible.”

“What’s happened?” she demanded.

“Orcs, my Lady,” he told her. “Hundreds of them. They managed to get as close as just over two miles away from the gates. The King is leading an attack on them. Do not worry; we will be victorious.” He sped off, leaving her astonished.

_Orcs_? The gruesome beasts were a thorn in her side, constantly reminding her of the day they took her mother from her. Destroyed her village. Slaughtered her friends. Injured her dear brother. Forced her under the shelter of a cold, hard ruler who hated her. Ruined her life.

She turned and fled, bounding back towards the room she shared with the other elleths.

“Elu? Whatever is wrong?” asked Lelliana, one of her former neighbours, as she burst in through the doorway.

“Another blasted orc attack,” she replied. The mattress was stripped from her makeshift bed and she grabbed her bow. Straightening, she eyed the group of females sitting in a corner of the room, sewing. “Will any of you join me?”

Hesitant looks passed from one to the other.

She snorted in disgust and took off again. Her bare feet were silent as she hurtled back in the direction she’d come, her bow in her hand and her arrows tucked safely against her back. Within minutes she was tearing towards the stables where there were a couple of horses left behind. Vaulting up onto a beautiful white one, she gripped the reins and guided the animal out towards the gates.

A handful of guards attempted to stop her as she galloped towards them, but the horse evaded them and charged over the bridge and into the woods, followed by a volley of shouts and orders to turn back.

She ignored them.

Branches whipped against her legs as she rode through the forest, following the trail of the army who’d gone mere minutes before her. Their tracks were easy to follow, and she lay low along her mount’s back as they closed the distance. Reasonably soon, she could hear the sounds of battle up ahead.

The forest opened out into a large clearing, where all hell was breaking loose. She slid off the horse and landed on a run towards the trees on the far left. Hoisting herself up, she threw one leg over a thick branch so she was sitting astride it, and nocked an arrow. She pulled it back so the feathers whispered against her cheek, closing one eye as she took aim.

The arrow shot through the air silently and thudded into the neck of a gargantuan beast who was about to cleave the head from one of the guards. It crumpled onto the ground before rolling sideways, writhing in the throes of death.

Hell became hotter.

A group of orcs snarled in anger and surrounded the guard, leaving him heavily outnumbered. Elu lined her arrows and fired with precision, taking all seven of them down rapidly. The guard gave her a brief nod of acknowledgement before racing to the aide of his comrades. Satisfied she’d helped at least one of her own, she slid from the branch and settled a little further down. The slightly lower height gave her a better angle to shoot into the mass of fighting taking place on the far side of the clearing.

Arrow after arrow flew through the air, each one deadly in accuracy and speed as orcs fell at an astonishing rate.

Her eyes flicked to Thranduil in between releasing her weapons. He moved with the grace of a dancer, twisting and turning as he fought with both blades. Effortless moves slashed throats, took heads off, and cut down the evil that stood before him. His long blonde hair swished around him as he moved, his face a blank mask of cold indifference.

Her gaze lingered just a split second too long as a hand grabbed her ankle and dragged her down from the branch. She screamed as she crashed onto her back. The impact knocked the wind from her, and she gasped as the trees swirled around her. The orc loomed over her, leering as it lifted a sharp, lethal sword.

An elvish sword swiped over her and the beast toppled to one side in a bloodied heap. Elu screamed as a hand grabbed her and dragged her to her feet.

“Get out of here!” Thranduil barked furiously. “ _Now_!”

Her eyes widened in fear as she took a step back. His own blazed an inferno of rage as he stared at her, and she turned her back and ran. One of the guards held out an arm for her and ran with her back to her horse, where he speedily hoisted her up onto it and jumped up behind her. The animal reared up and took off, galloping through the woods away from the battle.


	8. Chapter 8

** CHAPTER EIGHT **

****

Thranduil was livid.

Guards and servants hurriedly leapt out of his path as he stormed through the palace, narrowly avoiding the six feet five tower of rage as he strode past, tearing off his armour and throwing it piece by piece to the floor. Melderion hurried behind him, quickly gathering the discarded battle-wear.

“Where is she?” the King roared. “Where is that blasted elleth?!”

Silence was his answer as those within earshot ducked for cover.

He marched onwards, throwing doors open in his search for her. He took the stone steps two at a time as he bounded down them, Melderion hurrying to keep up with him. Rounding the corner, he spotted her sitting on a wooden bench behind a massive carved pillar with her head in her hands, and came to a stop.

“Leave,” he hissed over his shoulder.

The faithful aide disappeared instantly.

Long strides carried him to her, where he gripped her arm and yanked her up from the seat. She cried out in pain as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her upper arm.

“When did you become a member of my armies?” he demanded as he towered over her. “Who gave you the authority to take one of my horses and ride into battle?”

“N..no-one, my Lord,” she stammered.

“Then _why_ did I find you about to be slaughtered in the middle of a fight where you had no business being?!” he screamed. His body shook with anger. “How _dare_ you assume that you are experienced enough to fight with my guards! Your place was _not_ out in those woods!”

“I…I…I am sorry, my Lord,” she gasped, terrified. “I only wanted to help-“

“If you want to help, then I suggest you stay out of my sight!” he barked, leaning down so only a few inches separated them.

She reeled back as far as his iron hold would allow, afraid of the fury that flashed in those ice blue eyes.

“My Lord, the patrol from the southern borders have returned,” a voice said.

Thranduil glared at her for several seconds, before slowly turning his head to give the speaker a profile view.

“The replacement patrol have arrived at the borders safely,” the servant went on after a moment’s hesitation. “The captain wishes to give you his report when you are available.”

He breathed deeply, turning back to Elu. “Inform him that I shall be with him just shortly,” he said, not taking his eyes from her. “I shall deal with you later,” he added to her, in a hiss that almost burned her ears.

His jaw clenched hard as he threw her arm aside, glaring at her as he spun on his heel and marched away. The flustered servant who had delivered his information lowered his head and trailed meekly behind the swirl of robes that stormed deeper into the palace.

Elu gasped a breath in, shaken to the core. She genuinely hadn’t meant to anger him. She knew she was formidable with a bow, and knew that her experience and accuracy could be of use to the elves fighting for their lives and their kingdom.

But Thranduil saw it differently.

He obviously looked at it as a feeble female jumping into a situation where she was definitely not welcome, and somehow that had undermined him. His authority was still intact, his soldiers still looked upon him as their rightful King and leader – what damage had she done by showing up in the forest?

Unable to decipher his thoughts, she leaned back against the pillar, a heavy sadness washing over her.

“Elu.”

Her head turned.

Legolas stood several feet away. “Are you well?” he asked.

She nodded with a weak smile. “Yes.”

He inhaled deeply through his nose. “My father will calm down, given enough time,” he told her. “He is furious about the attack. He objects to situations being forced upon him with no warning, no chance to prepare. Do not take his words to heart, _Mellon._ All shall be well.”

“I doubt it,” she said through a shaky laugh. “I have felt his ire consistently since my arrival, yet I have never borne witness to such… _ferocity…_ such rage, such…belligerence.”

The Prince sighed softly as he leaned back against the wall and crossed one ankle over the other, folding his arms. He studied the floor at his feet. “He keeps his thoughts closed to everyone around him,” he said. “We have talked about this previously. Sometimes he has to crack, and this just happens to be one of those times. He is worried that harm befalls you.”

She snorted. “I am sure he is,” she said. “He wants to go through eternal life without ever having to set eyes upon me again. Perhaps I did the wrong thing in returning for Ealan. Perhaps I should have paid attention to my instinct and stayed away.”

His eyebrows twitched slightly as he considered her words. “I do not think so. I feel that you have done the right thing. My father will come around, sooner or later. Trust me. Like I said before; he has problems within the Woodland realm that he must deal with.”

She folded her hands together in front of her, her eyes downcast. “I truly think it would be best all round if I leave,” she said.

Legolas’s jaw dropped. Something was _seriously_ wrong here, and he had to fix it. And fast. “But Ealan…he needs you,” he protested. So did his father, but he’d been forbidden to mention the conversation between the two of them. “What would he do if you were not here?”

“He is a grown ellon,” she said, her words containing a slight bite. “I have devoted my life to raising him, being there for him, doing everything for him. He has become too dependent on me. It is time I made some choices for myself.”

Baby blue eyes watched her as she twisted her fingers. “I think that you should consider allowing the dust to settle before making your final choice,” he said after a pause. “I know that there are many here who would miss you if you were to leave us.”

“But I shall be leaving one day either way, will I not? What difference would it make whether it was right away or in a week’s time, a month’s time, next season?”

“Perhaps more than you might think. You may be making a rash decision while not in the correct frame of mind,” he told her. “I would strongly suggest you give it some time before making your final decision.”

She nodded slowly.

He could tell her mind was already thinking ahead. Sighing softly, he leaned his weight off the wall and straightened his stance. “I am going to tend to my duties,” he said quietly. “I trust I shall see yourself and Ealon this night?”

“Yes. We will quite probably take our meal in the great Hall with everyone else,” she replied.

He gave her a slight bow which she returned, and walked through the hallways. The thought ran through his mind that he needed to speak with his father, and quickly, before he did any more damage.

*****

Hours passed.

Thranduil made the decision to stay away from Elu, knowing deep inside himself that he needed the space to regain his usual sense of calm. He was furious that she’d turned up in the woods, but knew that she’d had a helping hand in their reasonably swift victory. It didn’t matter that she’d saved the lives of many of his guards, even his; he was more concerned that she’d come close to losing her own.

He promised himself he’d put this point across, without losing his temper or pushing her further away. The fear in her eyes had struck a nerve – she’d been genuinely scared of him, and that was more than he had been aiming for in his attempt at pushing her away.

Sending a guard to summons her, he sat on his throne and eyed Aileron, who was pointlessly droning on and on about the orc attack. He wasn’t telling him anything that he didn’t already know, and he found the edges of his temper slowly beginning to fray.

He lifted his chin as the elleth in question made her way along the curved walkway, followed by the guard. She’d changed, and wore a simple white dress which hugged her figure and flared elegantly at her bare feet. One eyebrow twitched; the only sign of his slight amusement at her reluctance to wear anything on her feet.

Aileron stopped, noticing his King’s attention had wandered, and looked over his shoulder. He turned back towards the throne with a grin. “Splendid,” he said. “This is perfect timing, my Lord.”

Ice blue eyes flicked back to him, but nothing was said.

Elu advanced towards the raised dais. Her face remained neutral, but her eyes held an emotionally detached look.

Thranduil opened his mouth, but the annoying captain beat him to it.

“My Lord…if I may,” he said, drawing his arm behind him with a flourish towards her. “I have something for which I seek your permission and approval.”

Elu looked from a distant point to him with a look of vague surprise.

“I have summoned Lady Elu before me for a reason,” Thranduil said. “However, say what you wish to say so that I can conduct the business I have at hand.”

The captain grinned wider. “As you know, my Lord, Lady Elu and myself worked rather closely for some time at her home village,” he said.

“And?”

“I myself felt a deep connection with her. I seek your permission to court her, with a view to marry her.”

Elu’s jaw dropped.

_What??_

Thranduil’s jaw clenched. “And what does Lady Elu say regarding this proposal?”

She hesitated, being at a complete loss for words. “I…I had no idea the Captain was thinking such things,” she stammered.

“I would be looking at securing a home for us not far from her own village,” Aileron continued. “I can provide well for her, and I know I can make her happy.”

She blinked.

A long silence hung in the vast cavernous space.

“No.”

The captain gasped. “But my Lord-“

“I will not allow it,” Thranduil said. His voice was cold. “It is out of the question.”

Elu breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. The proposition had taken her completely by surprise. She’d spoken with Aileron often while working, but had no idea he’d been thinking towards a future with her. Nothing he’d said had even hinted at his inner thoughts and intentions. Her heart certainly didn’t lie with him.

It lay with the ruler who sat on the throne.

The ruler who’s eyes glittered menacingly as he stared down at the two of them.

“I…I…” Aileron stuttered. “May I ask your reasoning, my Lord?” His cheeks were red.

The King leaned forwards with an evil look in his gaze. “Seeing as I have known the pleasures of her body first, it would not be a true union,” he said softly.

She almost dropped.

He had known _what?!?_

The captain whirled around to face her with a look of complete horror. “You have been intimate with _the King_??” he demanded.

Thranduil sat back, the faintest hint of a wicked smile tugging at one corner of his lips.

“Well? _Have_ you?”

She swallowed. This was one hell of a predicament.

If she said yes to throw him off, she would forever be known as an elleth with no morals; a slut. If she said no, she was going head to head against the King, accusing him of being a liar.

Neither option bode well for her.

Angry eyes darted between her and Thranduil. “I cannot believe my ears,” he gasped. “How could you? I thought that we could have a future together! We get on so well with one another, yet you neglected to tell me that you were disrobing at every opportunity for someone!”

Her cheeks burned in shame.

Thranduil’s smirk grew as he watched her discomfort. “Safe to say, this _request_ has been denied,” he drawled lazily. “I believe there is no more room for discussion. My word is final on the matter.”

Aileron glared up at him, his chest heaving as he fought with his anger. “Of course, my Lord,” he said through gritted teeth. He turned and marched away without looking at Elu.

Thranduil waved the guard over. “Escort Lady Elu back to whatever she was doing,” he said. He felt no need to berate her for the earlier events in the forest, knowing that he’d humiliated her and reminded her exactly what his position was and how much power he wielded.

Her head lowered as she silently followed the guard back along the walkway.

His eyes followed her, taking in the slump of her shoulders, and he pursed his mouth. Maybe he’d taken it a little too far. But he wasn’t one to back down and retract his words, and this would be no exception. The matter was over and done with.

*****

Aileron chopped viciously at the offending branch which hung low before him. He kicked it aside and strode through the edge of the woods. Peace wouldn’t come to him, and his rage was growing rapidly. How _dare_ she laugh and joke with him while they’d been working, only for her to be sleeping with the King? Another ellon perhaps he could have handled better, but to be upstaged by the monarch? That was completely different. There was no way he could argue his point or fight for her, even if he did think she was worth it after sullying herself with another male.

His eyes lifted from the forest floor as the rustling of leaves and branches caught his attention. His mood slowly began to lift as his brother and his cousin appeared from the undergrowth.

*****

Elu threw the book she’d been reading aside and leapt to her feet. Fury pounded through her veins as she stormed out of the library, with several heads turning to watch her leave. She couldn’t – _wouldn’t_ – let the matter go. Thranduil had no right to say what he did, and he had no right to refuse his permission for her to court or marry anyone. He didn’t own her. She was his subject, but nothing more.

Storming along the dark underground hallways, she searched for the object of her rage, finally catching sight of him through the open door of his private study.

“My Lord, I request a word,” she said stiffly, positioning herself in the doorway.

He looked up at her in surprise. “My, my…this is a day for requests,” he said. “And to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

She stepped further into the room. “I think you know,” she said. Her voice wavered slightly with both anger and nerves. “I refer to the meeting not two hours ago.”

The faintest flicker of a smirk flashed over his mouth, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. “You wish to dispute my decision?” he asked.

“I wish to dispute your reasoning!” she snapped.

“Remember to whom you speak,” he reminded her coldly.

Her temper was at the point where she no longer cared for airs and graces. “You have ruined my reputation,” she said. “The words that you uttered were unfathomable lies!”

He snorted. “What do I care about _your_ reputation?” he demanded. “I could not care less about what others think of you.” A deliberate lie.

“Perhaps I do!” she retorted. “If I had denied your allegations, I would have been calling you a liar!”

“A fate punishable by a long spell in the dungeons,” he said, sliding her a sideways glance. “I trust your common sense told you _not_ to go against me.”

She bristled. “No-one will ever look at me,” she hissed. “All will think that I have loose morals, if any morals at all! How could you do that to me? What have I ever done to you that is so wrong?”

“You are here within my palace, are you not?” he replied snidely.

“You were just handed a chance to be rid of me!” Her voice had risen, and she was bordering on shouting. She didn’t care. “Aileron said he intended to acquire a home out with the palace! _You_ stopped that, none other!”

“Perhaps I do not think that you would be suitable for one of my captains!” he shouted, slamming the book he’d held down onto the desk. “Perhaps I do not think that you have the correct breeding!”

Her mouth opened in horror. “Your hatred runs _so_ deep,” she whispered. “So, so deep. I have never known a hatred as such! And I risk my freedom and possibly my life when I say that it is completely unjustified!”

“So you may think,” he snapped, turning away from her.

“So I ask you once more – what have I done to wrong you?” she persisted, unwilling to bear her suffering any longer.

He whirled back round, so fast, she jumped. “You desecrate the memory of my dead wife!” he roared.

*****

Hugging her knees tightly to her chest, she wiped her tears away.

Her mood was low after the confrontation in Thranduil’s study. He’d roared his final words at her and barged past her, knocking her aside in his rage. She’d stood there for several moments, stunned and shocked. Not knowing what he referred to, she had no way of reasoning what he’d said. She’d eventually moved, fleeing back to the shared room she slept in.

Bustling in the hall drew her attention, and she looked up to see two guards in the doorway.

“The King has ordered you to accompany us,” one of them said.

“For what reason?” she asked.

“That remains the concern of the King,” he replied.

She reluctantly eased herself off her bed and followed them out into the corridor. The two of them walked shoulder to shoulder in front of her, united in a wall of stony silence. Her feet dragged as she walked. Every bit of fight in her had been drained by the day’s events.

An unseen pair of dark grey eyes watched the trio as they passed.

The guards led her outside to the courtyard, where one of them left to return with two horses. Both bounded up onto them, and the one who’d spoken grabbed her and hoisted her up in front of him. A kick to the horses’ flanks, and they took off at a gallop through the gates.

Miles of woodlands passed as they hurtled through the forest. Elu was terrified; she didn’t know where they had been told to take her. She hoped inwardly that Thranduil had ordered them to return her to her village, but she was sure they were travelling in the wrong direction.

They eventually came to a stop, and both guards dismounted. Rough hands dragged her down from the horse, tearing the shoulder of her dress in the process. She wriggled and yelled at the manhandling, and was rewarded with a swift punch across her left cheekbone.

“Silence, whore!” the second guard shouted.

She cried out in pain and fear as the one holding her dragged her forwards and threw her away from him. Her head reeled back as he punched her again.

“The King has ordered your execution,” the other ellon told her as he withdrew his sword.

“Why?” she pleaded. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“You have dishonoured him, and insulted him,” he replied. The one who had struck her grabbed her wrists and tied them tightly behind her back. “No-one insults the King. It is a fate that is punishable by death. That is the law.”

She shook her head, blinded by her tears. “I did not insult or dishonour him!” she cried. “Please, you must believe me!”

“We carry out the orders of the King himself,” he replied.

The guard finished tying her hands and stepped away. The one who had spoken moved behind her and pushed her to her knees. He gripped her hair, forcing her head back.

Elu’s heart thumped rapidly, so loud she could hear it as her eyes desperately searched the forest around her.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

Sunlight streamed in through gaps in the treetops and lit up patches of the ground. Bright plants and flowers thrived under the warm light, and she realised she would never be able to appreciate their beauty again.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

The cold steel of the blade touched her throat, and she swallowed. Her vision was blurred as her tears flowed fast, and she couldn’t focus on anything.

The sweet song of birds reached her ears, and the thought entered her mind that if she was going to die, she could at least perhaps find some peace in the knowledge that nature was trying to make her final seconds a little more pleasant.

_Thump-thump. Thump-thump._

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

Her heartbeat was getting louder, pounding faster and harder.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

Her heartbroken eyes lifted as the greenery several yards away parted and the biggest, blackest stallion she’d ever seen crashed out of the trees. The animal was in full gallop, but pulled to a controlled halt a few feet away from her. He reared up on his hind legs before dropping back down onto all four hooves, prancing sideways in impatience.

In her state of distress, she slowly became aware that the animal carried a rider. A rider with long blonde hair. A rider whose ice blue eyes held hers as he dismounted and thudded to the forest floor.

She gasped and panted for breath as he slowly approached.

His eyes moved to the guard standing behind her, still holding onto her hair. “The task that you are about to do – I will have you tell me what it is,” his deep voice said.

“We are carrying out your command, my Lord,” replied the guard who stood a little to the side.

“And my command was?” He turned his head towards him.

“The elleth’s execution, my Lord, for disrespecting you and dishonouring you,” he answered.

“And you do not think that if someone dishonoured me and I ordered their execution, that I would be more than capable of carrying it out myself?” he asked.

Elu’s heart continued to hammer in her chest, and the urge to be sick was violently overwhelming. He hadn’t come to witness her death. He’d come to ensure he did it himself.

Thranduil’s eyes met hers as he whipped his sword out.

She squeezed her eyes closed, and the last thing she heard was the almost silent _whoosh_ as it sliced through the air.


	9. Chapter 9

** CHAPTER NINE **

****

Silence.

Elu gasped, realising that she was in fact still alive, not dead as she’d expected. She opened her eyes, looking up into the ice blue ones that stared intently into hers. Several long, agonising seconds passed, and Thranduil slowly shifted his gaze from her to the ellon behind her.

She followed his arm with her eyes, slowly shifting over the strong set of his shoulder and along his outstretched limb. Tilting and turning her head, she gazed along his forearm, past his wrist to his fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of his sword which still hung suspended in the air over her.

The ellon behind her stood stock-still, his eyes on his King. His hand released the grip in her hair as he fell to one side. The weapon in his hand dragged along her shoulder with his momentum, slicing her flesh. She was so shocked, she didn’t notice. It was only once he hit the forest floor that she saw the results of Thranduil’s handiwork; the guard’s head rolled away several feet as he fell.

Her head whipped back round to him as her mouth gaped open.

His attention moved to the other guard, who scrabbled to unsheathe his own weapon. He didn’t succeed, as the blood-soaked blade swept in his direction at speed. A deep red gash appeared diagonally across his torso, and he too sank to his knees before falling face-first onto the grass and dirt below him. His body twitched a few times as it fought to live, then came to a silent still.

Those blue eyes shifted back to her.

Thranduil stood still for several moments, assessing the shocked and distressed female on her knees before him. Dirt and blood was streaked over her cheeks. Pale tracks cut through the dirt as her tears had carved paths down her cheeks as she cried. Her dress had been torn from her right shoulder, revealing her exposed shoulder and upper arm. Blood flowed steadily from the wound inflicted as the guard had descended to the ground. Petrified eyes held his, but she remained silent.

He stepped around her and squatted down as he gripped her bound wrists. The sword sliced cleanly through the rope, and he gently massaged the red skin to bring her circulation back. The coarse rope had burned into her soft flesh, and his heart cracked a little more.

But he said nothing, just helped her to her feet.

She stood with her head slightly lowered. Unsure what she was supposed to say, do, or expect, words failed her. Her head lifted slightly in surprise as the soft warmth of his cloak was placed gently around her shoulders. Her numb fingers clutched the edges and she tugged them over her front. Silent tears continued to fall as the hood was settled on her head. Gentle hands lingered briefly on her shoulders, sliding down to her upper arms before falling away.

From the corner of her eye, she watched as he leapt up onto his horse and the huge animal walked around her, coming to a halt behind her. Her entire body trembled with adrenalin, fear, and a thousand other things that she couldn’t even begin to name or examine.

Thranduil leaned down and his strong arm slid tightly around her waist as he lifted her up onto the horse and placed her in front of him. Without a word, he turned the magnificent animal and slowly proceeded back in the direction he’d come.

*****

Melderion stood silently at the main gates as he waited patiently for his King’s return. He hoped beyond anything else that his master had reached Elu in time, as he’d been more than certain that Aileron’s brother and cousin had been up to no good. Having heard the confrontation between Thranduil, the captain and the elleth in question, he was aware that emotions were running high on Aileron’s side. Why his King had said what he had was beyond his comprehension; he knew every significant event in his King’s life, and knew that he hadn’t bedded Elu. But knowing him as he had for thousands of years, he knew there must have been a good reason for him to have claimed that he had.

He sighed to himself as he waited. His eyes remained on the path which disappeared into the shade of the woodlands, just waiting for Thranduil’s return.

And his patience paid off.

The black stallion appeared out of the trees, slowly plodding over the cobbled walkway. The King held the reins in one hand, his other arm wrapped tightly around Elu.

She looked bedraggled and beaten. Her head was down, her shoulders sagging under an impossible weight of fear and shock. Thranduil’s face held its usual stoic mask, revealing nothing to anyone who would be observing. His eyes met his trusted aide’s, and the slightest dip of his head told him everything he needed to know.

“Welcome back, my Lord,” Melderion said, taking the horse’s reins as they drew level with him. “I am glad to see you both return safely.”

“As am I,” he replied, and swung his weight down from the animal. He reached up and grasped Elu by the waist and lifted her down to stand before him. “Please see to it that she is seen by Assana immediately; there is a wound which needs urgent attention.”

“Of course, my Lord,” the aide replied. He touched a gentle hand under her elbow and motioned with his other to proceed forwards into the palace.

She walked beside him in silence. He sensed she was too distraught to speak of what had happened, and so he kept his thoughts to himself. Idle chatter would do her no good in her current state of mind, and he respected her need to close off into herself as she processed what was happening.

Thranduil watched them disappear and walked his horse back to the stables, where he turned him over to a groom. Long strides took him into the side entrance, where he swept up the stairs and swerved his body down a side corridor. Blazing torches flickered in the draught as he passed, the wind from his strides toying with the flames. Legolas was in the study, and he informed him of the afternoon’s events, much to the Prince’s horror. After reassuring his son that both himself and Elu were unharmed, he set off in search of his dishonest guard.

“My Lord,” Aileron said as he walked into the weapons room.

He pushed the door over, but not quite closed. “I have had to deal with something most unsavoury,” he said. His deep voice echoed around the large room. “It would appear that I have been lax, of late, regarding some issues.”

The captain lifted one shoulder. “The weight you bear on your shoulders is vast, my Lord,” he said, replacing a bow that he’d been inspecting. He turned to face his King. “I pride myself in being available to carry out any orders you may issue.”

“Noted,” the reply came. “However…” He slowly walked around the guard with his hands clasped behind his back. “Something vexes me.”

“I understand. That elleth’s attitude towards yourself leaves much to be desired, my Lord. I myself am ashamed that I had feelings towards her, and will waste no time in ridding myself of any plans for a future with her,” he said.

Thranduil nodded. “It would seem that the situation has been resolved,” he replied. He came to a halt at an adjacent angle to Aileron.

“Good – this I am most pleased to hear,” the guard said.

“You took the initiative to order her execution,” Thranduil said.

Aileron hesitated briefly before answering. “I found myself in an intolerable position, my Lord,” he said. “That she has so obviously used your status and wealth to seduce you and attempt a place here in the palace disturbs me greatly. I feared for the future of your rule over this realm should she interfere.”

The King tipped his head back and gazed up at the roof. “At least justice has been served,” he murmered.

“Excellent. Has her body been disposed of? Do you need me to take care of it?”

Ice blue eyes looked back at the smaller ellon. “There are bodies which need to be _disposed of…_ however, the corpse, or in this case _corpses_ , do not belong to Elu. They belong to your brother and cousin.”

Aileron’s face changed, and his mouth opened. “What?? My brother and cousin?” Rage filtered across his eyes. “What happened? Did she overpower-“

“ _I happened,”_ Thranduil snapped. “How _dare_ you issue orders without my permission, under my name, overriding my rule?!”

“But…but…she is nothing but a cheap whore!” the guard shouted. He opened his mouth again to continue, but never had the chance.

Thranduil whipped his sword out and slashed it across his neck, stepping back from the trajectory of spurting blood. His cold eyes followed the man to the floor as he fell. He leaned down and wiped his blade clean across his back, and slowly re-sheathed it.

Several moments passed.

“Why do you linger in the shadows?” he asked.

Silence.

Slowly turning, his eyes landed on Elu, who stood in the doorway. Her dark blue eyes were _exactly_ as he’d seen them in his dreams for hundreds of years. His heart hammered.

A careless glance at the body on the floor was accompanied by a slight shrug of his shoulders. “The source behind what happened to you exists no more,” he said. His tone was quiet; defeated. “You will no longer fear for your safety in this realm. Nor will you be made to feel unwelcome.” He stepped past her.

She instinctively reached out and placed a hand on his arm, drawing him to a stop. “What happened?” she asked, her voice broken and afraid. “Why did they do that to me? Why will you not just let me leave?”

He slowly took a deep breath in through his nose, his gaze fixed on the wall in front of him. “You may leave once your home has been rebuilt,” he said quietly. “I will ensure that the building works are completed without delay.” With that, he stepped away from her and disappeared out of sight, leaving her bewildered.

What had just happened? He’d treated her like dirt, screamed and shouted at her, then charged to her aid and rescued her at the point of death. His entire demeanour seemed different since the encounter in the forest; he was almost sad and desolate. The man was truly an enigma, and she had no idea how to even begin unravelling the mystery that comprised Thranduil Oropherion.

*****

True to his word, legions of elves left the palace the following morning, travelling on horseback with wagons laden with tools and supplies. By the end of the week, word spread through the realm like wildfire that the village had been completed and was fit for the residents to return.

An air of melancholy settled over Eru as she processed the news.

Thranduil still wasn’t talking to her, as such, but her time in his home had been much more tolerable since the guards had taken her. Not a word had passed his lips, but he’d tipped his head slightly in recognition if he passed her or caught her eye across a room.

She was more mystified than ever.

Ealan was pleased on the surface to be returning home, but she sensed a deeper undercurrent; something he wasn’t prepared to share. Suspecting it was to do with leaving Assana, she didn’t push the subject, figuring he’d speak about it through time if he felt the need to. They gathered up what little belongings they’d brought with them and were escorted back to the village by a troop of guards.

Thranduil didn’t make an appearance.

That saddened her.

Knowing her growing feelings were unwarranted and bordering on ridiculous, she’d still hoped to say thankyou and goodbye before leaving. But it wasn’t meant to be. The King had been elsewhere in his realm as her friends and neighbours had departed. The Prince travelled with them, and she took a little comfort from that as she and her brother had become firm friends with him.

“Who am I going to compete against for archery practice?” he teased as they unloaded their things from the horses.

She laughed. “You do not need any practice, my Prince,” she replied. “And if you think that you do, then you are sorely misinformed. There is no better at archery.”

He chuckled. “It was rather pleasant to have someone to spar with who has so much talent,” he told her. “The guards at the palace are excellent, but I have learned since making your acquaintance that they are not at the top of their game.”

She blushed a little. “You speak untruths – they are very competent,” she said. “I dare say that if you are ever passing, I would make time to have a practice with you.” A bright smile accompanied her words.

“And I shall make every endeavour to take you up on your offer,” he replied with a hearty grin. “My father is the only other in the entire kingdom who can hold level with me, and it is refreshing to compete against someone else.”

“I doubt he would be pleased to hear this!” she laughed. “Ealan! Come and take this package please!”

Her brother shuffled out of the house they’d be living in, grumbling good-naturedly under his breath. “Wait until you see the house,” he said on approach.

“Never mind that, just take this inside,” she told him as she handed him a wrapped bundle of new bedlinen, courtesy of Thranduil, who’d supplied everyone with basic needs. “There will be plenty of time later to have a look around. I just wish to settle in and try to find my feet again after being away for so long.”

Legolas laughed as he finished unpacking various bits and pieces which his father had sent for everyone. The bundles consisted of bedlinen, food supplies, and basic hygiene essentials, like soap and shampoo.

“Your father has been most generous,” Elu commented as they walked towards the house. “We are all deeply indebted to him for his kindness.”

“Nonsense,” he answered. “He would be embarrassed to hear such. He would not allow his own kind to struggle and go without. That is an ongoing concern of mine, and has been for many centuries.”

“What is?”

He sighed. “People outside of the realm consider him to be harsh and unfeeling,” he said. “But he is not. He simply does not know how to show his feelings any more, after losing my mother. He closed himself off and refused to show what he considered to be a weakness.”

She turned to face him as they had stopped walking. “That must have been so difficult for you,” she said softly. “After losing one parent, you would have been looking for affection from the remaining one. I too, lost my mother when I was very young,” she added at his look of surprise. “I looked for affection from my father, and he tried his best. But…he had far too much on his shoulders.”

Legolas looked down at his feet for a few moments. “I am sorry,” he said finally. “It is indescribably difficult to adjust to losing a parent, even though I must admit I have few memories of my mother. I find that I cannot picture her face anymore, and this upsets me greatly.”

“Time has done that,” she said, touching his arm. “There is no shame, Legolas. No shame at all, and do not let yourself feel any. My mother died after an orc attack, and my father tried his utmost to become both parents. He had to hunt, he had to protect us, and to be honest I ended up being mother to Ealan. He was but a baby when my mother passed. My father was exhausted and stressed every day, and it only increased as the threat of the orcs grew.”

“What happened to him?”

They resumed their approach to the house.

“Another orc attack,” she replied. “Those vile beasts are the bane of my life. They took both parents, and have caused _so_ much damage. I hate them with every fibre of my being, and I am not a hateful person.”

“And then you suffer another attack, end up under my father’s care, and have two guards drag you off to end your life,” he said. He turned baby blue eyes towards her. “You have not had it easy, _Mellon._ ”

She shrugged as they entered the building. “Has anyone?” she quipped. “Oh my…this is beautiful! It is beyond what I had imagined!” Her ecstatic gaze swept the room they were in, which was a living area. “Look at the size of that window!”

Legolas grinned at her enthusiasm as he placed what he’d been carrying down onto a couch. “I am sure my father will be pleased that you are happy,” he told her.

“Pleased? I am thrilled!” she almost shouted. “Look at all the space! Look…there are even plants on the window ledge!”

The blonde heir to the throne couldn’t contain his laughter. “Oh Elu, you are so easily excited! They are but plants!”

“Maybe so, but look at them!” she gushed as she rushed over to the window to examine them. “Look how green the leaves are! The colours of the blossoms! They seem unworldly in their beauty!”

Ealan grunted as he presented himself from the hallway leading to the stairway. “Just wait until you see the bedrooms,” he told her. “They are very spacious; it is clear to see that this house was designed and built by the King’s people.”

“For which we shall be eternally grateful,” she sighed, turning to look at Legolas. “I honestly cannot express-“

He held his hand up and stopped her mid-flow. “There truly is no need,” he said. “My father cares deeply about our people, and would die before he would see them suffer or do without. That is simply one of the things that makes him the best King ever to rule these lands.”

She smiled. “I have to agree with you, as I have heard things regarding previous Kings, and those ruling other realms, and not all of it is savoury. Your father has gone above and beyond to help us to get back on our feet, as well as saving our lives during the attack. My friends and neighbours shall always owe him a huge debt.”

“Nonsense. He would not hear of it,” he told her. “And as much as I would like to remain and enjoy your elation over your new home, I regret to say I must depart. The patrol is heading over towards the west border, and I must lead them on their mission.”

“Well thankyou from the bottom of our hearts for all that you have done,” she said. She reached over and took both his hands in hers with a warm smile. “And please…feel free to visit any time you wish. You will always be made welcome here.”

“And I give you my heartfelt thanks for such hospitality, my Lady,” he grinned with a bow of his head. “Take care, and I will make sure to visit soon.” He pressed a kiss to the back of Elu’s hands before releasing them and nodding to Ealan.

She sighed, turning to her brother as Legolas left the house and crossed the pasture to his horse. “We must eat something, then I intend on arranging everything,” she told him.

He frowned in confusion. “What is wrong with things the way they are?” he asked, puzzled.

“Nothing. I mean our things; things we have brought with us. Clothes, food, and the like,” she replied. “Would you like some stew? I can make some then settle down to unpack.”

Her brother grinned. “You are _so_ domesticated,” he said.

“Someone has to be,” she shot back. “Come on – move. You can set the plates and start the fire while I prepare everything.”

*****

“Everything went well?”

Legolas turned at his father’s deep voice. “Yes,” he answered. “Everyone has settled in and they seem really pleased with their village.”

“Good,” Thranduil commented. He stepped further into the room, his hands clasped behind his back as he slowly walked towards his son to stand beside him.

“Many send their gratitude,” he told him. “By the time I left to head off with the patrol, it looked and felt as though they had always been there. Elu in particular. She-“

“I have no wish to hear what she is doing,” his father interrupted abruptly. “What she does or does not do is of no concern to me. It is her life; she will live it as she chooses.”

Legolas frowned. “Father…is everything alright?” he asked tentatively.

Ice blue eyes swept in his direction. “Why should it not be?”

“I am merely enquiring, that is all,” he replied on a sigh.

“This chapter of our lives is now closed, and we must move on. New things lie before us – new experiences, new negotiations, new challenges. Perhaps now that the village has been rebuilt and the inhabitants moved back, I will be able to focus more on the future.” Dark eyebrows arched down slightly as he spoke; a subtle warning to his child not to push the matter. He clearly didn’t want to pursue the line of conversation.

“Of course,” the Prince said in begrudged agreement. “As you wish.”

“I do,” he replied and swept out of the room.

Legolas frowned as he stared after him.


	10. Chapter 10

** CHAPTER TEN **

****

The dreams didn’t stop.

They continued to torment Thranduil, coming to him night after night, full moon or not. Each morning he awoke exhausted, reluctant to face the realm, and wishing for nothing more than a deep, peaceful sleep. The headaches followed him through his days and dulled his concentration. Dark shadows started appearing under his eyes. His appetite dwindled until he spent most meal times pushing his food around the plate.

Melderion observed silently from a distance. His King was showing signs of deep distress, and he felt powerless to help. Unless he spoke of what troubled him, there was nothing he could do other than prompt him to eat whenever he felt he could do so without fear of punishment.

Assana had noticed the change in him also, and made a point of seeking out the Prince to voice her concerns.

“I understand, Lady Assana,” he told her. “But I cannot speak of whatever ails him. He _has_ spoken to me in confidence, and I would never break that. However, I too can see a large difference in him, and it is not good.”

“I would never ask you to break a confidence, be it your father’s or anyone else’s,” she assured him. “But my heart truly aches to see the King suffer like this. He is not himself, and I cannot help but notice that he has been different since the orc attack on the village.”

Baby blue eyes looked into grey ones. “This is no secret,” he admitted. “I am at a loss, my Lady. I do not know what to suggest.”

The healer pursed her mouth thoughtfully. “Have him come to me for a sleep tonic,” she advised after a few moments. “He is beyond exhausted, and a tonic may help him have the rest that he so badly needs. Perhaps he will tell me what troubles him and I may be able to help him.”

“This type of behaviour is known as _meddling_ ,” a deep voice said, making both elves jump in fright.

They turned to see Thranduil standing behind them, his arms folded across his chest.

“I would have presumed – albeit wrongly – that both of you had been assigned to your tasks for the day,” he continued, taking slow, deliberate steps towards them. “And yet I find you here, both gossiping and speculating about the health of your King.” One eyebrow lifted.

“My Lord-“ Assana began, but he held one hand up.

“Return to your duties,” he said coldly.

“Of course, my Lord,” she said, and left with a deep, apologetic bow.

His icy gaze turned towards his son. “I assure you, _ion,_ there is nothing wrong with my health, or my state of mind.”

The Prince held his gaze for a few seconds, before shaking his head. “I am sorry, Father, but I do not believe you,” he snapped. “Day after day I am seeing you sink deeper into a state of melancholy. You hardly eat, you are beyond the borders of tired, and you do not interact like before. This change has become more prominent since the elves left to return to their village, and I know it has to do with what we spoke of previously.”

Thranduil’s jaw clenched and his nostrils flared in anger. “You will not speak of-“

“Yes, I will! Because I and others are watching you struggle from one day to the next and not _one_ of us knows how to help you!” Legolas butted in angrily. “We need our King, we need your direction.” He paused. “I need my _father._ ”

Thranduil blinked, taken aback by his son’s words. His eyes lowered slowly towards the floor, and he turned away slightly. A heavy silence hung between the pair for several long moments. “I do you an injustice,” he said softly.

“In what way?”

He looked back at him. “I refuse to heed your words of concern,” he answered. “But I fear that this is something that only I can best. I will not allow it to rule me. I will not allow it to make my decisions for me.”

“Yet you are allowing it to change you into a mere shadow of the powerful ruler we are accustomed to,” Legolas said as he folded his arms. “Father – _do something._ If you must go and visit Elu, then do so. There is no shame in your feelings.”

“But there is,” he whispered. “I loved your mother, Legolas. I will not betray her memory.”

“Mother is dead, and she is _not_ coming back,” he told him. “Nothing you or I do can ever change that. You have walked alone for thousands of years, carrying the weight of the realm on your shoulders, and the burden of grief. Do you think that is living? For I do not; I see it as merely existing. Mother would not want you to crawl through life in such ways, and you know this. You may have to dig deep into your heart to see it, but that knowledge is there. Elu has been coming to you in your dreams for a reason, and it is your rightful place to discover what that reason is. No-one else can do it for you. It is _your_ place.”

Thranduil swallowed. “I do not know if I wish to know,” he said, still in a whisper. “My heart breaks when I think of never seeing your mother again, never touching her soft skin, never smelling the flowers in her hair… _how_ can I ever move on from that?”

“The sands of time are moving constantly, and it is the rightful way of things to move with them,” he said. “None are saying that you should forget her. But like I said before – the flame of love will burn again. And there is no shame in that.”

His parent gazed deeply into his eyes, in awe of his wisdom. “You shall make a great King someday,” he said softly.

“I have no desire to be a King,” Legolas replied. “You are here to fulfil that role, and that suits me down to the ground. Besides,” he added with a slight smirk. “If I become King, I cannot pull off the mischief on the patrol that I do on a regular basis.”

Thranduil laughed despite himself. “Yes…I have heard tales of your menacing amongst the guards,” he said. He heaved a deep sigh. “I will take your words into account,” he said. “I need to think things over, perhaps face some things which I have refused to face for a long, long time.”

The younger royal stepped forwards and wrapped his arms around him. “Do that,” he advised. “And you know where I am should you need to talk.”

He wrapped his own arms tightly around his child, remembering times past when he was little more than a toddling elfling, and they had shared many an embrace. “I love you, Legolas,” he said quietly into his hair.

“I love you too,” he replied, and pulled away. “I must see to my duties. Will you join me for dinner this night?”

Thranduil nodded with determination. “Yes. I will.”

“Good,” the Prince grinned, and quickly left the hall.

*****

Thranduil rolled over in bed. The blanket had been kicked down towards his thighs somewhere, and he was tangled up in the sheets. Sweat glistened on his skin as he breathed rapidly, his forehead creased in a deep frown even as he slept.

Thick, dark fog swirled before him, making it difficult to see his surroundings. The atmosphere was tense and thick, with a heavy heat that made it harder to breathe. He walked forwards through the fog. Nowhere looked familiar, and all he found was thicker fog the further he walked.

He stopped suddenly with a gasp. Elu’s eyes appeared before him, but they were closed. For the first time in three hundred years, they were closed. He tilted his head and reached a hand through the swirling fog in an attempt to flick it out of his way.

The eyes opened.

He leapt back a step in horror.

Her eyes weren’t blue; they were a deep red. Blood red. A heavy weight pressed against his chest as he fought for air. Gasping and panting, he walked backwards, but the distance between him and the eyes didn’t seem to increase. It was almost as if they were moving with him.

The fog swirled thicker and faster around him, and he began to panic. As he watched, the eyes slowly closed, and a single teardrop escaped. It twinkled like the brightest star, glimmering and sparkling.

Thranduil shot into a sitting position in bed, panting hard as he looked around his darkened chambers in confusion. Running both hands through his hair, he focused on evening out his breathing and bringing his pounding heartbeat under control.

Something wasn’t right, and he knew it. Never _ever_ had her eyes been closed, and they had never been any other colour than the deep blue that mesmerised him. And there had never been any signs of tears.

He threw the sheets aside and slid out of the bed, where he grabbed his robe and slid his arms into it. A timid knock at the heavy wooden door drew his attention.

“Enter,” he commanded.

A guard slowly opened the door and peered inside. “Is all well, my Lord?” he queried.

“Awaken my son, and have him brought to me,” he said as he turned his back.

The door closed behind him, leaving him alone in the darkness once more. He went over to the window and stepped out onto the balcony. Resting his hands on the stone, he gazed out into the night. The stars above twinkled and sparkled, making him think of the tear he had seen in Elu’s red eyes.

A few minutes passed before Legolas arrived, dressed also in his robe with his hair slightly tousled. “Father? Are you well?” he asked in confusion.

Thranduil turned and indicated the couch. “Sit, my son,” he said quietly.

He sat, wondering what in Middle Earth had prompted his father to wake him at such an hour.

The King sat in the chair across from him. “I have had another dream,” he whispered. “A different one.”

“Different? In what way?”

He sighed. “Something is desperately wrong, I fear,” he said, and proceeded to tell him of what he had seen in the dream. Legolas sat silently, his mind turning the information over.

“I think it best that we travel to the village,” he said. “Whatever your dream symbolized, it is not good. We must act on it, and fast.”

His father nodded. “I feel that you are correct.” He rose swiftly to his feet. “Have a company assembled, and they will meet with me as soon as possible out by the stables.”

Legolas rose. “I will accompany you,” he said.

He gazed at his son, before nodding slowly. “Thankyou.”

Left alone once more, he strode through to the massive closet that was home to an extravagant array of clothing. Selecting leggings and a simple black tunic, he quickly dressed and threw his long cloak around his shoulders. Tugging on his boots, his eye caught the gleam of his twin blades which stood propped up against the bedside cabinet. He grabbed them and slid them into their sheaths with the knowledge that very probably he would have cause to use them.

Within the hour, he, Legolas, and eighteen guards flew through the forest on horseback. The animals were sure-footed and hurtled over obstacles with ease as they thundered towards the newly-built village. Dark shadows passed them in a blur as they raced onwards, and Thranduil felt the dread growing the closer they got to the settlement.

Dawn had broken by the time they reached their destination, with the King hurtling from the trees in front of his company. He yanked his horse to a sudden stop.

The village was no more.

Burned-out buildings stood where the newly-constructed homes had been erected. Smashed windows. Furniture dragged outside and burned. Livestock and animals slaughtered. Gardens destroyed. Scores of dead bodies strewn around the wreckage. The smell of blood and death was heavy in the air.

He slowly slid from his mount, releasing the reins and taking hesitant steps forward. Legolas bounded to the ground and walked behind him. Both remained silent.

Thranduil turned in a slow circle.

Everyone had been murdered in a show of mindless violence. Not even a single plant or flower had been left untouched in the carnage.

His gaze fell on a crushed, uprooted plant that lay a few steps away from his booted feet. The flowers were deep purple, a shade he’d never seen in his thousands of years, and he knew instinctively that Elu had done something magical, both in creating the colour and in growing the plant in such a short time.

He squatted down and touched a fingertip to one of the remaining petals. The precious gift of nature felt soft against his skin as it shed from the stem and fluttered to the ground. His heart grew even heavier. He lifted his head and gazed at the wooden fence surrounding one of the buildings. Not sure how, he somehow knew that she had claimed that one as her home, and that she had built the fence around it. Wooden palings were smashed and torn from the support beams. Splinters lay scattered in all directions, and his eyes moved beyond them to the door which had been kicked free from the fixings.

Very slowly, he rose back to his full height.

Legolas gently touched his elbow. “What do you wish us to do?” he asked softly.

He didn’t answer.

He couldn’t.

Instead, he continued to turn in a slow circle, absorbing everything around him. “Such destruction,” he whispered. “Such darkness. Such evil.”

His accompanying guards remained seated on their horses, waiting for further command in respectful silence.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

Legolas waited patiently.

Suddenly, he felt a tingling creep through his body. A very, very faint tingling, but still a sensation. His head shot up.

“She is still alive,” he whispered, and turned to his son. “She is still alive!”

“Elu?” he asked.

“Yes…I can feel her presence,” he gasped. “Find her!” The order came out as a bark.

The guards immediately shifted, leaping to the ground and taking off in all directions to search for signs of life. They hurried from one wreckage to another, moving swiftly and competently.

Thranduil hurried to join them, with Legolas doing likewise.

Each and every building was searched from top to bottom. Sections of wall panelling were heaved aside, pieces of flooring thrown out of the way. Ruined furniture was moved, and bodies carefully carried outside to lay side-by-side on the grass.

Thranduil was becoming frantic. The tingling was still with him, but he felt it fading in and out as he hunted for her. She _had_ to live; she _had_ to be still breathing somewhere.

“My Lord! Come quickly!” a vice rang out.

He dropped the ceiling beam he held and tore out into the open. Two of the guards beckoned him towards the mill, and he quickly closed the distance.

“Have you found anyone? Have you found Lady Elu?” he demanded breathlessly. Legolas materialised at his side in an instant.

“My Lord, she is inside,” one of them answered, and stepped aside.

He stepped into the darkened mill, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dim light. Spotting several sets of large grinding stones, he frowned as he stared deeper into the shadows. He stepped forwards, deciding to follow his gut feeling rather than his sight, and his senses guided him over to the right.

A bloodied bundle lay huddled against the far wall, in behind the larger grinding stones, buried deep in shadow.

He rushed over and dropped to his knees.

Elu lay twisted on the floor, half on her back and partially turned onto her side. An arrow protruded from her stomach, and she was bleeding heavily. Her skin was ashen grey, her eyes closed, and her breathing shallow.

But she was alive.

Thranduil gently but quickly turned her fully onto her back. Blood poured from her wound, thick and dark.

“Can you do anything, Father?” Legolas asked from behind him.

He gripped the bottom of her tunic and ripped it partway, exposing the projectile. “I will use my last breath trying,” he answered gruffly. “You have athelas?”

“Always,” his son replied as he dug into his pocket. “I never travel without it, not after the last battle at Erebor.” He handed it to one of the guards, who had appeared with a small bowl of water.

Thranduil deftly snapped the shaft of the arrow and tossed it aside. “I do not know if I can stop the bleeding, but I cannot move her in this condition,” he said, half to himself. “If I can seal the wound, we will be able to take her back to the palace.”

The Prince lowered himself to his knees beside him. “You will need to staunch the blood when you remove the arrow head,” he muttered, and tore a wide strip from the bottom of his own tunic.

His father took a deep breath as he gently prised open the wound, and Legolas held the cloth against it. Strong, capable fingers worked the tip of the arrow gently from side to side, easing it out.

Her blood started to flood.

“The athelas,” Thranduil said.

The guard silently handed him the bowl, and he squeezed excess water from the plant. Pushing it hard into the wound, he lowered his head and breathed deeply. Legolas maintained pressure on the cloth against the blood flow.

Silence settled over the mill, and the guards who had gathered in the doorway watched as their King dug deep within himself for his own magic. Minutes ticked past, with not a single noise coming from those congregated.

Legolas’s eyes flicked from Elu, who lay unconscious, and his father, who had his eyes closed in deep concentration. He could feel the energy radiating from him, and knew that this was the elleth’s only hope of survival. If Thranduil couldn’t save her, then no-one could.

After a long time, the blood flow slowly began to decrease. A soft sigh of relief rippled amongst the soldiers. Two of them left to fetch the royal horses.

“We can move her,” Thranduil said quietly, as he opened his eyes. “I have done all that I can. It is in the hands of the Gods now.”

“And they will take care of her,” the Prince replied.

His father scooped her into his arms and rose to his feet. Legolas also stood and led him out into the clearing, past the guards who bowed in respect. Their horses waited patiently, and Thranduil’s immediately knelt down on his forelegs, allowing him to mount him.

The Prince turned to those assembled. “Please bury the dead, then return to the palace,” he said.

“Of course, my Lord,” the head guard replied with a bow. “May all three of you travel safe.”

Neither of them replied, but Legolas nodded briefly in response as they turned to leave. Sad eyes followed their departure, before those remaining turned to begin their task.


	11. Chapter 11

** CHAPTER ELEVEN **

****

The journey back through the woodlands took longer, as the horses moved in a gentle canter rather than a flat-out gallop. Thranduil’s arms remained tightly around Elu, who remained unconscious.

“Does she still breathe?” Legolas asked in concern.

“Yes, although barely,” he replied as he glanced down at her. “I fear we may have been too late.”

“I do not think so, else you would not have been able to stop the bleeding like you did,” his son said. “Once we arrive back home, I am sure Assana can-“

“No,” he interrupted. “I shall take her to the Waters Of Wellness.”

Legolas’s eyes widened in surprise. “I…I thought they had dried up many years ago,” he said. “They still exist?”

“Yes. Very few are aware of the pool,” Thranduil responded, glancing over at him as they rode. “The entrance has not opened for thousands of years, and even when it did, only a select few could gain access. My father was one of them, as was I.”

“Yet you have never visited the waters for any of your own injuries,” he murmered.

“None of my injuries were fatal,” he told him. “The injury that Elu carries will be fatal if I do not do something.”

The Prince nodded. “I understand. Do you need me to assist?”

“I may.”

“Then I shall accompany you there.”

The rest of the journey passed in peaceful silence, with the only noise being the rustling of the leaves and plants as the horses passed through. They eventually broke free from the forest and made their way across the cobbled walkway, where Melderion was waiting faithfully as usual. He wordlessly took the reins of the King’s horse and bade the animal to kneel, allowing him to dismount.

“Have one of the grooms tend to the horses,” Thranduil instructed. “I may have need of you.”

“Of course, my Lord,” the aide replied. He beckoned a stable-hand over and passed on the instruction, turning both animals over to him and then following the royal pair.

They walked down many twisting passageways that ran deep into the belly of the palace, most of them forgotten about over the ages. Thranduil however, had never forgotten them, or where they led to. The walk was silent as the three ellons walked further along the seemingly endless route of twists and turns.

Finally coming to a halt outside a sheer rock face, Thranduil turned to his companions. “You will be able to enter with me,” he said solemnly. “Should either of you attempt to enter alone, you will be unable to. In time, my son, you will have the power to gain entry,” he added to Legolas. “With time comes age, wisdom, and experience, and this will grant you the ability to open the doors, along with your heritage.”

His son nodded.

He turned back to the rock, closed his eyes and whispered something in a voice so quiet, neither ellon could hear it. His words were in a language so old, they would never have been able to decipher it even if they could hear it.

A few seconds passed and a previously concealed panel in the rock face began to shift, making a loud grinding noise as it moved.

“It has been many a millennia since I trod through this doorway,” he said, reverting back to their spoken language. “If I recall correctly, the last time was when my Father had been injured in battle…long before he fell.”

A peaceful, tranquil air filled the cavernous space. Water flowed down at various points to collect in a large pool set into the rocks. Legolas turned his gaze towards the roof, curious as to where the solitary beam of natural light shone in. A small gap in the stone roof provided the answer, and he shook his head to himself as he followed his father, with Melderion walking behind him.

Thranduil approached the water’s edge, and stopped. “By the grace of the Valar, may you live through this,” he said softly, his eyes on the elleth he held in his arms. He stepped forwards still fully clothed, walking into the water. Legolas and Melderion remained standing on the rocks. He waded out until the water level reached his chest and swirled gently around Elu.

“I think that I shall have no need for you,” he said over his shoulder. “You may take your leave. I will be here for some time.”

The aide bowed and left the sacred area, leaving the Prince.

“How long shall you have to remain here?” he asked.

“Until I know that she will live,” the King answered without turning. He knew the moment his son left, leaving him alone in the pool with Elu. He closed his eyes and murmered soft words in Sindarin, calling to the Gods to do whatever they had to do to let her live. He prayed for the healing of her injury. He prayed for peace for those who had passed in the barbaric slaughter. And he prayed for the wisdom to bring the elleth he held through whatever she had to face.

Hours passed.

She remained unconscious and unmoving in his arms.

He turned and slowly made his way towards the edge of the pool, and lowered his weight to sit on the steps carved out of the rock beneath the surface. His clothes were heavy with the weight of the water.

Cradling her in his left arm against his chest, he carefully lifted his right hand and scooped up water, slowly pouring it through her hair. The black silken tresses flowed around her, fanned out in the water which lapped gently around her shoulders.

He continued to scoop handfuls of the sacred, pure water. Once her hair was soaked, he carefully traced his wet fingers over her face. He ran his fingertips over her forehead, under her closed eyes, and over her cheekbones. Over her delicately pointed ears, and down her throat.

“Come back to me, little Bluebird,” he whispered. “Come back to me.”

She didn’t respond.

Ever patient of the passage of time, Thranduil wasn’t concerned. He was contented to stay where he was, tipping small amounts of water to distribute their healing energy over her.

More hours passed.

Very slowly, he noticed a subtle change in her breathing. Her chest rose and fell as she seemed to take breaths that were a little deeper than previously. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. The Waters Of Wellness hadn’t diminished in their ability to restore life to those who were dangerously close to losing theirs.

He shifted his legs below the water and settled into a more comfortable position, having been sitting for hours. His left arm tightened around her shoulders as he moved, tugging her closer. Her head leaned against his shoulder.

He went rigid as she took a deep breath.

Then another.

“Elu?” he whispered. “Elu?”

A soft sigh escaped her dry parched lips.

He reached over and scooped up more water, pouring it slowly through her hair again. “Come to me, little Bluebird,” he murmered.

Her eyelids flickered, and very slowly, opened.

He ceased his movements, returning his right hand to her side.

“Wh…where am I?” she whispered. “What happened?” Her voice was raw.

“You are in my Halls,” he replied, matching her whisper. “You have nothing to fear. You are safe.”

Her gaze left his face and moved to her surroundings. “What happened?”

He took a deep breath. “Your village was attacked again.”

Her eyes moved back to his. “Where is Ealan? Where is everyone else?”

His gaze faltered. “Relax, and allow the healing powers of the water to restore your strength,” he said. “I shall answer your questions when you are well enough. You were badly injured.”

A look of panic flashed across her eyes, and she weakly struggled to free herself.

His arms tightened around her. “Please remain still,” he said. “You have need yet of the healing powers of this pool. You must stay here for a while longer, until I feel your strength returning.”

The fight left her as she looked up into his eyes. “You hate me,” she whispered.

“I do not,” he whispered back. “Far from it. Now relax, and allow the magic to do what it is intended for.”

Feeling as though she had no other option, she did as he told her, but relaxing wasn’t easy for her. Her body remained tense, her mind searching for answers as to what had happened and how she came to wind up in a pool, in the King’s arms, sprawled across his knees.

“I promise, I will tell you everything that you wish to know later,” he said, as though reading her thoughts.

Maybe he was.

Doubtful, fearful eyes went back to his. “Why do I have the feeling that I will not like what you have to tell me?” she asked. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat below her ear comforted her.

“I would not think on that at this moment in time,” he answered, choosing his words carefully. “It is more important that you send your energy towards healing your wound.”

She fell silent. His heartbeat seemed to make her sleepy as she listened to it, and before long, she had fallen asleep.

Thranduil knew the moment that another presence made itself known. He lifted his head slightly and murmered in the forgotten language. The stone wall creaked open, and Melderion stepped inside. He held a large towel in his hands.

“My Lord,” he said simply.

The King rose to his feet and sent cascades of water flooding from both his clothing and the ragged garments that covered Elu. “She will live,” he said quietly.

His aide moved to the pair. “Very good news, my Lord,” he said as he wrapped the thick towel around Thranduil’s broad shoulders. Moving to stand before him, he brought it around so that it covered her as well.

“I shall take her up to the healing rooms, and there she will rest and recover in peace,” he told him. “I do not want anyone other than myself, my son, and yourself to spend time with her. I will limit the damage that she will endure once she learns of the fate of her kin.”

“I understand,” Melderion nodded. “And I think that you have made a wise choice. The poor soul needs peace and tranquillity.”

“And I will ensure that she gets it,” the King replied as he turned and slowly made his way up the steps out of the water.

*****

Several days passed.

Thranduil had taken Elu to the healing rooms as he’d said, and made sure that she had the room furthest away from anyone else. He’d left her only once, while Assana and her assistant had bathed and changed her, then he’d sent them away as he’d returned to her side. Food and medicine had been brought for him to give to her, as well as fresh dressings for the wound on her stomach.

He was cleaning her injury site when she sighed and opened her eyes. His hands stilled briefly.

“How do you feel?” he asked as he carefully wiped away traces of dried blood. “You have been asleep for days.”

“Hungry,” she answered. “And sore.”

He nodded. “That is understandable, and expected. I have food here for you. This will not take long.”

She watched him, taking in the concentration in his eyes as he worked, the gentleness of his large hands, and the sweep of his long, silky hair as he moved. “Why are you doing this, not your healers?”

Again, he hesitated a little. “Perhaps I wish to undertake overseeing your recovery and healing process myself,” he replied. “Perhaps my healers are busy elsewhere.”

“You promised to tell me what happened,” she reminded him in a soft voice.

“And I will. But you will eat first. Afterwards, I will tell you what you wish to know.” A clean dressing was put into place, and he eased the fabric of her attire back to where it was supposed to be. Assana had chosen to dress her in a soft cotton top and loose trousers for her recuperation, knowing that the King would be tending to her dressing and wishing to spare her the shame of being exposed unnecessarily. A loose top would mean the wound site could be revealed without shaming her.

He turned from her and walked over to the wooden table that sat against the far wall. Her eyes followed him as he went, stopping to wash his hands and dry them. The set of his shoulders spoke of tension and worry.

He went back to her and sat down in the chair that he dragged to the side of her bed. Lifting a sandwich from a plate on a low table she hadn’t noticed, he handed it to her along with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

She took it from him, eyeing it tentatively.

“You must build your strength,” he told her as he leaned back and crossed one knee over the other. “It has been days since you have had any nourishment. Your body is weak from hunger and your wound.”

She nodded, and took a bite. She ate in silence, wondering why he remained at her side. He seemed quite content to sit quietly, his gaze turned towards the window as he waited for her to have her meal.

His ice blue eyes went back to her as she finished.

“Please tell me,” she said quietly.

Taking a deep breath in through his nose, he clasped his hands together and tapped his thumbs against each other. “Are you sure that you were well enough to know the full details?”

She swallowed and nodded. “Yes. I know that whatever the details are, they are not good. I can tell by your eyes and your reluctance to speak of them.”

“Your recovery has been my top priority,” he replied. “However, if you feel that you are in a position to know…”

“I do.”

His eyes lowered briefly before meeting hers again. “There was another attack on your village,” he said. “You were the only survivor.”

She gasped, the breath catching in her throat as she lurched forwards into a more upright position. “No!” she cried. “No! Ealan?”

“I am sorry,” he said quietly. “He did not make it. I am so sorry.”

She panted hard for breath. “This cannot be true,” she whispered as tears rolled down her cheeks. “He cannot be…”

Thranduil reached over and took her hands in one of his, holding tightly. “You were the only one alive by the time we reached there,” he said. “And you were only just alive. I fear that if we had been mere minutes later, you would not have survived either.”

Her head lowered as she struggled to absorb his words.

His heart broke at her anguish. He knew she would fall apart at the news, and had prolonged telling her for as long as he had been able, but she had a right to know the fate of her brother and her friends. He clenched his teeth, determined to remain strong for her.

“Why can I not remember?” she wept, lifting her head to look at him. “Why did I not do anything to save him?”

“I do not know that you did not,” he told her. “My guards found you in the mill, and you had taken an arrow in your stomach. You were bleeding to death, and were unable to move.”

Eyes filled with pain and grief stared into his. “Orcs?” she asked in a whisper.

He nodded. “I think so. It was an orc arrow that I removed.”

She looked away, pulling her hands free from his and turning her back to him.

He sat in silence, allowing her to gather herself together.

“They have taken everything from me,” she said softly, after a long time had passed. “They took my mother. They took my father. They took my friends and my home. Then they returned and took them again, and my brother also.”

“I will slaughter every orc that I can find,” he said after a few moments.

Very slowly, she turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder. Her dark blue eyes stared into his, as though she was trying to see into his soul. “Why would you help me?” she asked. “You have saved my life three times. Why? What is your interest?” Her body shifted so she faced him. “Every time something happens, I find you in my life. There must be a reason behind this. I want to know what it is.”

He swallowed and looked away. “You are not ready for that,” he replied.

Her fists bunched on the bed. “I beg to differ,” she whispered angrily. “I have lost everything that has ever meant anything to me. Then suddenly _you_ come into my life, and despite your hatred for me, you are consistently there. This does not make sense.”

“I have told you…I do not hate you,” he said. “There is a reason I pushed you away. A reason which I am not willing to talk about at this point in time. You will not change my mind on that, so do not waste your energy attempting to.” A look of anger flashed over his eyes, and she knew to back down and let him have the upper hand.

“What lies ahead for me?”

“You will remain here whilst you heal,” he told her. “After which, what you choose to do shall be up to you.”

She lay back down again, turned on her side so that her back was presented to him. “I think I would like to be alone,” she said in a low voice.

“Of course.”

The chair scraped on the stone floor as he stood up.

“I shall return if you wish for anything,” he told her. A gentle hand briefly touched her shoulder before withdrawing again.

She sensed rather than heard him move away, as he moved silently.

He heard her soft sniffles of tears as he reached the door and his heart twisted painfully in response, but he honoured her request and left her alone.


	12. Chapter 12

** CHAPTER TWELVE **

****

Days passed.

Elu remained in the healing room that Thranduil had chosen for her, and spent several periods of her time alone as she lost herself in her thoughts and memories. Legolas visited her once or twice, as did Assana. Neither of them knew what to say to her, both knowing that she was lost in a deep well of grief that could only lift through time.

Thranduil spent the most time with her.

Sometimes he didn’t speak. He simply sat at her side reading, or going through official documents that required his attention. He watched her as she slept. He changed her wound dressing. He made sure she ate, his persistence being stronger than her preference not to eat. His dominant nature shone through as she turned her head away when he offered her food; he simply turned her head back to face him and placed the food in her mouth.

“I would think that you are strong enough to accompany me for a short walk,” he announced after several days.

She raised her eyes to him. He was standing over at the large window with his hands clasped at his back. His silver-grey cloak draped over strong, broad shoulders and fell to the floor in sweeping folds at his heels. Long blonde hair settled smoothly against his back, with not a ripple or a knot in sight. She wondered how long he spent brushing it to keep it in such lustrous condition. The natural light coming in through the window radiated a soft shine from his hair.

He turned to her, his ice blue eyes narrowing at her silence. “Your lack of speech of late concerns me,” he said as he walked slowly towards her. “I fear that you are locking yourself into a self-imposed prison of silence as you grieve. It is neither a wise, nor a healthy thing to do.”

She looked away with a silent sigh. “I do not intend to be rude,” she said quietly, after a few moments’ silence. “I am merely processing recent events.”

“I understand that,” he told her. “I too have suffered grief and loss, to the point where I no longer wished to exist. I dare say that if it had not been for my son, then I would not have survived.”

She glanced at him, knowing that he’d imparted thoughts that he seldom, if ever, shared with anyone.

“But time, although infinite for us, moves on,” he continued. “And we must adjust accordingly. We cannot allow ourselves to remain stagnant in one position forever. We have an intrinsic instinct to gather together what parts of our souls that we have left, and to move forwards. There is no other choice.”

Her eyes lowered again as she remained seated on the edge of the bed.

He held a hand out to her. “Come with me,” he said. Although spoken with a gentle tone, it wasn’t a request.

She reluctantly took his hand and he pulled her to her feet and turned to lift a cloak which lay folded on the chair that he normally occupied during his time with her.

“You may feel the cool air a little as you are still recuperating,” he told her as he wrapped it over her shoulders. “But I feel that you are almost at full health once more.”

“Thankyou,” she murmered, pulling the luxurious fabric tighter around her body.

“You are welcome,” he replied as he walked towards the doorway.

She followed.

He walked at her side through the hallways, surprising her. She’d expected him to walk before her. Several pairs of guards passed, each armed soldier bowing in respect as they moved, as did various maids and workers. Thranduil tilted his head in acknowledgement, but said nothing.

Elu kept her head down slightly as she walked, noticing that he deliberately slowed his long strides so that she could keep up. Her eyes followed his polished boots as he strolled along, taking in the detail of the fine stitching and the expensive leather.

“After you,” he said suddenly, making her raise her head again.

He stood next to a massive glass door, holding it open and one arm held out to usher her through. She slowly stepped outside, instinctively curling her toes in the lush green grass as it caressed her bare feet.

Small pleasures.

A hint of a smile curved the corners of his mouth as he noticed her act, but he didn’t say anything as he closed the door over behind them. “These are my private gardens,” he told her as they began walking again. “Only my son has access, and he is out on patrol. We will not be disturbed, and you will not have to face anyone that you do not wish to.”

She nodded. “Thankyou. I do not think that I wish to deal with others just now.”

“No. The time is not right yet,” he replied. “You still have much healing to do, more so emotionally now than physically. Your wound is healing well, and this pleases me. For a long time we thought that perhaps you would not survive.”

She came to a stop, and he did likewise.

“Is it so important to you that I survive?” she asked, gazing up at him.

Expressionless eyes stared back. “Yes,” he said finally. “It is.”

“Why?”

He gave her a look over his shoulder as he resumed walking. “Some things happen for a reason,” he said. “And not everything is as clear as we would wish for it to be.”

She frowned as she followed him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He sighed. “It means, little Bluebird, that you do not yet know of your fate, and what it will bring with it.”

“Bluebird?” she echoed.

He smiled, the gesture shocking her. His entire face changed when he smiled, and he seemed to almost glow in perfection. “Your name – Elu. It is Sindarin for _blue._ ”

“I know.”

“And when I came to you in the mill, you were lying like a fragile, wounded little bird,” he explained. “Hence _Bluebird._ I think the name fits you well.”

She scowled silently.

“However,” he snapped, whirling around to face her and making her jump in fright. “Whilst you may possess the gentleness of a bluebird, you also have the strength of an eagle. And it is your fate that you find this strength and use it.”

“I…” She faltered, confused.

He tilted his head back slightly, gazing at her down his aristocratic nose. “You have no choice, Elu. Your strength will come to you when the time is right.”

She frowned. “How do you know this?” she asked curiously.

“I know many things.” He started walking again, leading her into an area thick with trees.

“You know how to confuse a person,” she acknowledged.

Another cold glare. “I may not have Lady Galadriel or Lord Elrond’s foresight, and I may not possess a Ring of Power, but it would be a colossal mistake to underestimate me.”

“I think that the fact that you have successfully ruled and protected your realm for thousands of years without either a Ring of Power or the gift of foresight speaks volumes, and that itself should not be discredited,” she retorted. “What makes you think that I am underestimating you?”

“Your attitude.”

Her eyebrows rose, but she chose not to respond to his abrupt answer. “May I stop for a rest?” she asked instead.

“Of course,” he replied. He placed a hand on her lower back and guided her towards a wooden bench beneath a huge tree.

She lowered herself to sit, and pulled her feet up onto the seat as she smoothed the soft fabric of the white dress Assana had given her that morning. Thranduil sat beside her with a little distance between them.

Nobody spoke for a long time.

“I have been aware of your existence for a long time,” he said, breaking the silence. His eyes turned to meet hers. “A _long_ time.”

She inhaled deeply. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“That depends on the individual,” he answered. “For me, it has been a bad thing.”

“Is that why you were so hostile towards me?”

“Yes.” He answered truthfully.

“Why? Am I evil or something?” she questioned.

He snorted softly. “No.” The word came out as a whisper.

She studied his eyes and saw the anguish that lurked in the blue depths. “Then what will I do that is so bad?”

He closed his eyes and turned his head away from her, refusing to answer.

She folded her hands in her lap. “How can I make amends for something which I have not yet done, and I do not know what it is?”

His eyes flicked back to hers. “Who said that you have not already done it?”

Her heart thumped in her chest. “You are scaring me,” she said quietly.

“That was not my intention, and I apologise,” he said. “I feel that there is more than one stage to what you shall do. You have already completed one. You still have one to do, but as yet I do not know what that is.”

“Can you tell me what the one that I have done might be?” she asked hesitantly. “Although I am not really sure that I wish to know.”

He turned to sit sideways on the bench, facing her. “Our kind do not dream often,” he began. “Usually, we will only dream in times of distress.”

She nodded. “I am aware of this.”

“I have been having the same dream for little more than three hundred years. The _same_ dream. Time after time. Every full moon, and sometimes in between,” he said. “I have had no rest from it. I have tried everything in my power to escape it, but I have failed. It returns to me without fail, no matter what I do.”

“I am sorry that this has plagued you for all those years,” she said softly. “Can you tell me what the dream is?”

His ice blue gaze held hers. “Your eyes.”

*****

Her face showed the shock which bolted through her like a blast of sudden energy.

He leaned back a little, resting his elbow on the back of the bench. “Your eyes have haunted me for centuries.”

She swallowed. “But…how? Why? What does that mean? Are you sure-“

“I am sure,” he interrupted. “I know your eyes better than I know my own. I have seen little else all this time.”

“I do not know what this means,” she said, her voice quiet. “Why would _you_ , the King, dream of _my_ eyes? Why mine?”

“That is a question that I have asked myself over and over as the years have passed,” he replied. “And I have only reached one conclusion.” His sharp gaze met hers. “You hold some significance in the future, but what it is, I do not know.”

Elu pondered the information. “Have you spoken to anyone of this?” she asked.

“Only my son,” he said. “I would trust no other with the knowledge.”

She leaned her head back and gazed up into the canopy of leaves above them. “I do not know what to say,” she murmered. “This takes me back to my mother’s last words…many, many years ago.”

“You were a child when she passed,” he said.

Her head tipped forwards again. “Yes. How did you know?”

“The first night you were here, you were having trouble sleeping. I, too, could not sleep and I went down to the healing rooms where your friends were being treated,” he told her. “Assana took me to you as you were screaming in your sleep.”

She frowned thoughtfully. “I _did_ have a dream,” she said slowly. “But it was not a nightmare. I dreamed that you were standing over me.”

“That is because I was. I touched your head and saw your dreams. Orcs, slaughter, and death. I also saw your memories of your mother passing.”

She sucked in a lungful of air, scooting back a little.

“I apologise,” he said softly. “It was an unbearable thing for any child to witness. I felt your pain, your anguish. I removed it from your mind so that you could rest.”

“So it was not a dream,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “No.”

“If I can appear in _your_ dreams, and you can appear in _mine…_ ” She trailed off.

“It would seem that whatever happens in the future, it connects us in some way,” he supplied softly. The muscle in his cheek tensed visibly as he clenched his teeth.

“This is beyond my understanding,” she murmered as she turned towards the other trees in front of them.

“What were your mother’s words that you spoke of?” he questioned.

She shook her head. “They are not important at present,” she said. “Somehow, I will know when they become prominent.”

He nodded. “Sometimes our instinct is truer that we believe it to be. And we must learn to listen to it.”

“Do you listen to yours?”

His head turned towards her, and she was shocked to see tears in his eyes. “No. And I should have. For if I had, I would not be in the pain that I am in now.” His reply came out as a pained whisper, almost a plea for help.

Unable to stop herself, she moved along the bench closer to him, and lifted her left hand to touch his cheek. “What pain do you speak of?” she asked. “What pain are you suffering?”

His lips parted, but he didn’t speak straight away. His eyes held hers, and she found herself drowning in the depths.

“The pain of forgetting that which once was,” he whispered. “The betrayal of turning away from a memory.” A single tear escaped and trickled down his cheek.

She moved her thumb and stopped it in its tracks. “Sometimes we have to close the door on the past in order to progress,” she said softly. “Otherwise the world will move on and leave us behind.”

His gaze lowered to her mouth then back to her eyes again. “Perhaps I do not know how to,” he said. “Perhaps what is in my heart goes against everything that I have been holding on tightly to, for thousands of years.”

Her own heart thumped erratically. “What is in your heart?” she asked.

“Feelings which I have tried to ignore and push aside,” he whispered painfully. “Feelings which I have done everything I can to destroy, but they will not go. They only grow in intensity.” Another tear silently trickled free.

“Perhaps you have to embrace what is in your heart,” she said, her voice so soft, he had trouble hearing her.

“Elu,” he whispered. “Elu…”

Her eyes automatically closed as he lessened the distance between them and brushed his mouth over hers in the faintest touch. His warm flesh against hers made her sigh in pleasure as she moved her lips against his. His parted, and hers followed suit as the kiss deepened.

_It will come to life fully only once you have given your heart, your soul, and your being to your soulmate, and not before. He carries within him the power to ignite your inner magic._

A sudden burst of buzzing energy shot through her entire body and threw her back, propelling her out of his reach and away from his touch. His shocked eyes opened in astonishment as she gasped and panted, confused as to what had happened.

“Elu? Are you alright?” he gasped, leaning forwards and gripping her upper arms. “What happened?”

Her chest heaved as she fought for breath. “I do not know,” she replied breathlessly. “It was like…I have no words for it…like a massive surge of energy. I have never felt anyth-“ She stopped. “No. Oh no.”

“What? What is it?” he urged in desperation. “Talk to me.”

She stared at him, open-mouthed as the truth sunk in. “My…my mother,” she said quietly. “My mother.”

He frowned. “What about her?”

“She told me something as she was dying.” Her soft words floated to him as her eyes filled with tears. “She said that I have an inner magic, and once I have bonded with my soulmate, he has the power to release it.” Her tears tipped over her eyelashes. “My soulmate carries the power to ignite my inner magic.” Her whispered words faltered as her tears got the better of her.

“Why does this cause you distress?” he asked, confused over her crying.

“Because…because now I know who my soulmate is,” she cried. “And he feels nothing but resentment towards me!”

His eyes widened as he realised she meant him. “No…no! I do _not_ feel resentment towards you!” he insisted, gripping her wrists and pulling her hands over onto his lap. “Elu…listen to me…please listen to me. I do not hate you, my darling. I pushed you away because I was _falling in love_ with you! That is why I tried to distance myself from you, because I felt that I would be betraying my dead wife!” His anxious eyes searched hers, desperate for some signal that she had taken in what he’d said. “I love you, and I am so sorry. I would not ask you to be with someone whom you have no feelings for. You deserve more.”

“What do you mean? I _do_ have feelings for you!” she cried. Her tears flowed faster. “The further you pushed me away the harder it became; I think I fell in love with you the day I saw you in the healing rooms. I just did not know who you were, but you made my heart beat so much harder and-“

He cut her off by swooping towards her and crushing his mouth against hers. The same buzzing energy surged through her, but his arms slid around her back and he held her tightly against him. The energy transferred through to him, and he felt the power that had rocked her to her core previously.

“I do not know what kind of magic lives within you,” he panted as he pulled back and gazed into her eyes. “But I do know this – it is a strong magic, a very strong magic. I think that it has slowly been awakening recently, as I always knew when you were close to me.”

“In what way?”

He gently wiped her tears away. “I feel a tingling sensation whenever you are nearby,” he told her. “That is how I knew that you were still alive when we arrived at the village. I could feel you there.”

She swallowed in an attempt to pull her shattered nerves together. “Why did you go there?”

He closed his eyes against the memory. The memory of the dream, and the memory of arriving to find the destroyed village littered with corpses. “I dreamed of your eyes again,” he whispered. “But they were not blue. They were blood red. And you cried a single tear.” He took a deep breath, opening his eyes and looking at her again. “I knew that something was horribly wrong, and that you were in some sort of danger. I knew that there was a strong chance that you were dying or were perhaps already dead.” His voice cracked on his final words and his head lowered. “I almost lost you without ever having the chance to love you.”

Elu wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into his hair. “I am so sorry for everything you have been through because of me,” she whispered. “I am so, so sorry. You did not ask for any of this, yet you have suffered. And it is my fault.”

“No, it is not your fault,” he told her as his arms tightened around her. “Had I followed what my dreams were telling me, maybe I would have made an effort to find you, to unravel what it all meant. Perhaps you would not have had to go through what you have suffered.”

Her eyes closed as the softness of his hair kissed her skin. His unique aroma bled into her senses, filling her with warmth, comfort, and a hope of peace after a long time of unrest. “What do we do now?” she asked after a long time had passed.

His arms remained around her. “Whatever you are comfortable with,” he answered. “My wish is to court you, to woo you, to spoil you and have you love me as much as I do you. However, that being said, I would never push you to do anything that you were uncomfortable with or hesitant about. It is not my way, and it is not something which I would do.”

“I already know this…somehow,” she murmered. “I _do_ feel comfortable with you. I cannot understand how or why, especially since we have not started out on the right footing. But something deep inside me trusts you, and I cannot explain that. All I can do is follow it and hope that it leads me to safety rather than harm.”

He slowly pulled back and framed her face with his warm hands. “I would never harm you,” he whispered. “I would die for you. I want to get to know you deeper as a person, as someone who rules my heart. I want to give you everything you have ever dreamed of, make all your wishes come true. My problem lies with settling my conscience with my past.”

She nodded. “I understand,” she told him. “I have heard tales of how much you love your Queen.”

“Loved,” he corrected. “She was taken from me in such a cruel way, yet she has made the decision not to return. My son is of the opinion that her choice has contributed to my grief.”

“He may be correct in his assumption,” she said. “I have no experience of what you have gone through, so I cannot comment myself. But what he says makes perfect sense, especially if you have been waiting for her to return to you.”

He sighed deeply, resting his forehead against hers. “I found myself having different thoughts over the years, as the dreams became more prominent,” he admitted. “I found myself thinking more of your eyes and who lay behind them rather than of my wife. And I resented that. I resented _you,_ even although it was not your fault.”

“You felt guilty.”

“Yes.”

“Yet you have no reason to,” she said. “Time stands still for none. It is constantly moving, going forwards. We cannot undo the past, nor make changes to it. We can only accept what has happened and keep going.”

“You sound just like Legolas,” he murmered. A deep warmth flowed between them as they sat, still with their heads pressed together in a comforting contact. He sighed heavily. “I am lost, Elu. So lost.”

She threaded her fingers through his hair and held firm. “Then perhaps we just have to guide one another back to a place where we are not lost,” she whispered. “I will take you, if you take me.”

His eyes opened as he shifted slightly, giving himself enough space to focus on her. “I will take you,” he whispered back.


	13. Chapter 13

** CHAPTER THIRTEEN **

****

“There is much that I wish for,” Thranduil said. “Many things. Yet I do not know how I should be pursuing them.”

Elu lifted her eyes from watching him rub slow circles on her hands with his thumbs to meet his. “In what way?” she asked.

He sighed softly. “I no longer know what is required; what is expected of me,” he admitted in a low voice. “Many thousands of years have passed since I last began a relationship; a bonding; a courtship. I fear that I have forgotten what is regarded as proper and what is expected.”

She blinked in mild surprise. “If it will set your mind at ease, it has been a very long time since an ellon tried to capture my attention. And it was not that memorable an event, believe me.” Her mouth curved upwards in a reassuring smile. “So I would assume that you have nothing to worry about in regards to your courting abilities.”

His ice blue eyes softened as he gazed at her. “I only wish to make you feel cherished,” he said. “The way I treated you previously was wrong, and I must attempt to somehow make amends for the-“

She silenced him by leaning towards him and touching her mouth to his. He stiffened briefly, before relaxing and responding to her kiss.

“You have nothing to make amends for,” she whispered as she put a hair’s breadth in between them. “Things were…complicated, unexplained, misunderstood. Neither of us were fully aware of what was happening. There is no shame in that; no need for apologies or regrets.”

Sadness filled his eyes. “I have one regret,” he said. “I regret having put you in a situation where you were almost slaughtered because of words I had said. I did not think for one second that Aileron would act in such ways. I can only be eternally grateful that Melderion saw his brother and cousin leave with you.”

She nodded, closing her eyes briefly. “I had no idea he had even been having thoughts of being with me,” she said. “That came right out of the blue.” She opened her eyes again. “I thought you had come to carry out my execution yourself.”

The sadness in his eyes turned swiftly to pain. “No,” he whispered brokenly. “I was horrified to find you in such a situation. Utterly shocked…and furious.”

“But I am alright,” she reminded him with a gentle smile. “How is Taralorn and her baby? I have missed them.”

His face lit up with a dazzling smile. “They are both well,” he replied. “And speaking of the foal, I wish for you to have him.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“Yes…he is my gift to you,” he told her. Both hands still held hers in his warm grasp. “I wish for you to have him. You gave him life when he was born. He is rightfully yours, my love.”

“But…but you are the one who delivered him,” she said. “And I have no gift for you. I have no means-“

“Your smile is my gift,” he interrupted. “Your well-being. Your safety. Your happiness. Your presence.”

She leaned her head against his again. “I love you,” she murmered.

His lips touched her cheek in a tender kiss. “And I love you too,” he replied. “And I shall prove this to you, many times over. But first, I will see to arranging for your own rooms. You will not be spending any further time cooped up in the healing rooms. You will have your own private rooms – close to mine, if that is acceptable.”

She laughed. “Of course it is! Why would it not be? And I do not need _rooms_ ; one room for me to sleep will be sufficient.”

He snorted in disgust. “Indeed it will not be. I will not have the lady that I love bundled away in some…some cell-like room! I will not hear of it.” His eyes met hers. “I would much rather you shared my rooms, but the time is not yet right,” he whispered. “I will not hurry you, or push you in any way.”

She breathed deeply and rested her palm on his cheek, to which he turned his head and placed a kiss in the centre. “You will not push or hurry me,” she told him. “This is all new to me, Thranduil. We will both know when the time is right for anything. Do not think about it.”

He smiled. “You must be famished,” he decided as he rose from his knees on the floor in front of where she sat in the armchair. Hours had passed since they’d been outside in his private gardens, and he’d taken her back inside as she’d started to feel the cold. “Come – we will have something to eat. You still need to build your strength up, my darling. I can feel that you are still a little weak.”

“But I am healing well,” she told him, allowing him to gently pull her up.

He inhaled deeply through his nose as he gazed down at her, deliberating whether to sweep her into his arms and ravish her or not. “And this pleases me,” he said, deciding to feed her rather than devour her. Leading her across the stone floor, he opened the door and held it open for her to pass through underneath his arm. “However, you still have some way to go. What do you wish to eat, anything in particular?”

“Anything you want,” she replied.

His fingers wrapped tightly around hers as they walked along the hallway towards the steps. “I feel that you should have more meat in your diet,” he said thoughtfully. “And more vegetables. You need the nutrients to allow your body to repair itself fully. I will have the cooks prepare accordingly.”

“Do not put them to any trouble, please,” she begged. “What I currently eat is absolutely fine. It has sustained me all these years, and will continue to do so.”

“Nonsense,” he grunted, nodding to two guards as they passed. “You will eat only the best. And I…” He trailed off, coming to a stop and turning to her. “Would I be too presumptuous if I asked you to share your meals with me?”

“Why would you be too presumptuous?” she asked in confusion.

“I…I do not know if you wish to spend your mealtimes with me, or with friends you have made here in the palace.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Thranduil,” she said, stepping closer to him and resting her free hand on his chest. “We have admitted our feelings for one another. We have made a choice to fix ourselves and to love each other. I do not want to spend time with others. I want to be with _you,_ as often as your schedule will allow. I want to get to know the heart that beats inside you, and the mind that always seems to be working. I want to hear of your dreams, your ideas, your plans and hopes for the future.”

His chest expanded as he took a deep breath, and a smile curved his full mouth. “I do not wish to be apart from you,” he said softly. “Ever. Now that I have you in my arms, I do not wish for you to be any place else. But I do not want you to feel obligated or-“

“Shhh,” she said as she placed a finger against his lips. “Stop that. I am hungry…let us eat.”

“Of course, my Lady,” he replied with a grin, and kissed the finger against his mouth. Turning with his smile in place, he led her along to his chambers and ordered his servants to bring food for both of them. They quickly disappeared to carry out his command.

“Your rooms are truly beautiful,” she murmered. She folded her arms over her torso and slowly padded across the floor to the open glass doors. “What a view.”

“I have spent many hours out on this balcony,” he said. He stood behind her and slid both arms around her waist, crossing them at her front. “Sometimes when the weight of the realm becomes too heavy, I come out here and meditate; absorb the beauty of nature around me.”

“The essence of the natural world heals the soul and the spirit, given time and peace to do so,” she murmered, leaning back against him. The heat from his body permeated into hers. “Yet too often we do not take the time to appreciate the healing powers around us.”

“I have a question,” he said as he rested his chin on top of her head. “The night we had the feast, and you healed my hand. How long have you had these powers?”

She shrugged a little. “I am unsure of the exact time,” she replied. “I realised I could do little things when I was still very young, no more than an elfling. As I grew, the small amount of abilities that I had grew also. I cannot do anything major, but sometimes what I _can_ do comes in beneficial.”

He pondered her answer. “There is a lot more that you are able to do than you realise,” he said eventually. “The fact that I am aware of whenever you are close tells me something. I have had that with no other. I know when my son is close by, but it is a different feeling.”

“Can you tell me what it is?”

“Of course. I feel as though my blood is fizzing inside me, almost like a tingling sensation, but much, much stronger. The closer you get, the stronger the feeling becomes,” he said.

She _hmm_ ’d thoughtfully. “I have yet to hear of anything like this,” she said. She twisted her head and looked up at him over her shoulder. “Is it a bad thing that I do not experience this whenever you are nearby?”

He smiled, the sheer beauty of him taking her breath away. “No. It only means that I am aware on a different level,” he told her. “Remember – I have been seeing your eyes for hundreds of years, with no clue as to who you were. All I knew was that you would have an indescribably large impact on me, over which I would have literally no control.”

She turned back to face the scenery, but he reached around her and gently tipped her head back so he could look into her eyes.

“This is not necessarily a bad thing,” he whispered. “I merely refused to acknowledge that the past was gone, and I was in denial about letting it go and moving forwards. That is _my_ error of judgement, my darling – not yours.”

Her eyes blinked slowly. “I do not wish to cause you any more pain than you have already suffered,” she told him. “I think that given what you went through in the past, and what I have put you through, you have been through more than enough. I love you too much to have you suffer any more.”

“The only way that I will suffer is if I am not with you,” he said softly. “I have you in my life, and I have accepted that the future is not what I had thought it was going to be. I need you, Elu…it is that simple. You did not haunt me all those years for no reason. You are meant to be in my life; I am meant to be with you.”

“I can only hope that you do not regret your choice,” she sighed, turning away again. “I am not a bad person; I have spent my life doing whatever I can to help those around me. I do not do bad or evil things, and I have never wished any badness on anyone.”

“I know this, my love,” he said, resuming his former position of resting on top of her head. “I can feel that you are pure inside, in both mind and spirit. I have always felt it.”

“Then why do I have so much guilt over what you have been through?” she asked.

He smiled. “Because you are sensitive to others,” he answered. “I have told you – it was my mistake, my error of judgement. Not yours. Perhaps if I had not been so stubborn when I first met you, things might have been easier…on both of us.”

She laughed softly. “Some things are placed before us to test us, to see how we cope with them,” she surmised. “Do not even think about it. Think ahead; think of where we are going rather than where we have been.”

“Wise words,” he murmered.

“It is the only way I can think of to move past what we have come through, and come out of it stronger,” she told him. “Else we can live in the past with all the pain and regret associated with it.”

A rather timid knock at the door made him reluctantly withdraw from her as he turned towards it, calling for entry. Two servants appeared carrying trays of food, which they placed down onto the table in the seating area before bowing and leaving as silently as they’d appeared.

“Your servants fear you,” Elu remarked thoughtfully.

Thranduil smirked as he gestured for her to sit. “And so they should,” he replied in a dry tone. “There are expectations, standards to be lived up to. If they do not meet my standards, they do not serve me. And that also stands if they do not live up to your expectations.” His blue eyes met hers as she sat in the chair he’d pulled out for her.

“What do you mean?”

He held her gaze as he sat down across from her. “I mean that they will serve you in the manner that they serve me,” he replied. “You will be treated with the same respect and deference that they give myself. I will tolerate nothing less, and I shall hear of it if they treat you otherwise.” He handed her a plate from one of the trays.

“I do not wish to be treated as such,” she told him, accepting the plate. “Thankyou. I am a normal person, and I do not need to be given special treatment. I do not want to be set apart from everyone else.”

“But you already are. You are my soulmate, my love, the other part of me. You cannot be treated the same as everyone else.”

She scowled as she took a bite of her food, making him laugh. “I have not changed. I am a simple elleth, with simple needs.”

“Needs which I shall fully apply myself to,” he murmered, half to himself.

A spark of longing shot through her, and her cheeks turned slightly pink. Did he know of all the nights she’d lain awake, wondering what his hands would feel like on her skin? His mouth placing kisses on flesh that no other had ever seen? His strong body taking possession of hers? His fingers entwined with hers as he rocked them both to a state of undiscovered bliss? The thought made her blush deepen, and he noticed.

“What is on your mind, little Bluebird?” he questioned. The spark in his eyes told her that he knew _exactly_ what she’d been thinking.

She didn’t answer.

“Believe me…I shall ensure that _no_ needs are left unsatisfied,” he whispered.

Her cheeks turned scarlet, and she laughed. “Can you read my mind?” she demanded.

“No. But I can read your eyes,” he replied. “Your eyes tell me a thousand things that your mouth cannot, or will not. I have gazed into them for three hundred years, my darling. I know everything that I should ever need to know as regards to your character and how your heart feels things. You will never be able to shield your thoughts or fears from me.”

“I should like to think that I would never have the need to,” she replied. “For me, that is not the way a loving relationship should be handled. If a couple cannot confide in one another, then perhaps they should not be together.”

“You have been hurt in the past,” he said softly. It wasn’t a question. It was an observation.

She shrugged as she took a drink of freshly squeezed orange juice, watching him eat. “There was someone, a long time past,” she told him. “I thought that he might be the one my mother spoke of; my soul mate. But it was not meant to be.”

“What happened?”

“He changed his mind and chose someone else.”

“Did you love him?”

Dark blue eyes met ice blue ones. “No. I thought at the time that I did, but…things have happened since then which have made me see that what I felt was not love. It was maybe the idea of being in love, but not the true thing.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “What things?”

Taking a deep breath, she spoke. “You.”

His eyes, which had lowered to his meal, shot back up to meet hers again.

“I felt things Thranduil, things which I never dreamed existed. Emotions I could not put a name to. Emotional and physical things which were completely new to me,” she explained. “I could not get you out of my head, out of my thoughts. My heart beat faster every time I thought of you. Every time I saw you, the beating became painful, it was pounding so hard. I could not breathe the way I usually do. I could not put words together. Thoughts became difficult to make sense of. And any time you looked at me, I felt as though I would fall to the floor and die on the spot.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, until he tipped his head back and laughed heartily. “Oh my darling…how long did you feel like that?”

“Since the first time I saw you, down in the healing rooms,” she answered. Her cheeks were flaming hot.

He put his fork down and reached across, touching his fingertips to her cheek. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Elu,” he whispered. “For I had the same thoughts, the same feelings, the same emotions. I may not have shown them, but believe me – I had them too. Instead of embracing them and pursuing them, I pushed you as far away as I could to try to avoid what I knew was happening to me. I have felt anguish and pain like I could never describe, and I could not bear to go through that again. I was trying to protect myself.”

“I understand,” she said with a smile. Her hand came up and she wrapped her fingers around his, and he squeezed them gently before releasing her.

“You have seen how cold and unfeeling I can be. Now I will show you the other side of me,” he decided, picking his fork up again. “Through time, you will see a devoted, passionate ellon who will do anything and everything to please his lover. Nothing is unattainable, nothing will ever be denied you. This is my promise; my oath.”

She studied him as she chewed. “I do not ask for anything,” she remarked.

“That may be, but you shall have everything,” he told her. “As the King of this realm, I will personally ensure that you lack nothing. Be it riches, gems, clothing-“

Her sudden burst of laughter stopped him. “Oh Thranduil,” she said wistfully as she shook her head. “Maybe one day you will understand.”

“Understand what?” He lifted his wine glass and took a drink, and screwed up his nose. “I do not like this wine. It is awful.”

She pushed her orange juice towards him to share instead. “I grew up with nothing. I hunted for food for myself and Ealan. I made do with whatever I could find. I do not look for materialistic possessions. All I ask, if we are going to be together, is that I share your time when you are free. That is all.”

“My time will always be yours,” he said. “I think that perhaps you should think about joining me for the council meetings and such like. They take up a lot of my time, and it will give you an insight as to the running of the realm. The only time I would demand that we spend time apart is when I go into battle. I would not permit you to be there. When that happens, you will be safe here with at the very least a battalion of guards to protect you.”

She remained silent, deciding that that turn in the discussion would do well to be shelved for the time being. It was something which they could argue about if and when the time arose, and not before. “So where shall I sleep this night?” she asked instead.

“Where would you like to sleep?” he whispered. His teasing tone made her blush yet again. “I apologise,” he laughed. “You are so endearing when you blush! I will arrange for rooms to be made available for you once we have eaten. You can do as you wish with them, arrange them in any way that you choose.”

“Thankyou,” she said with a smile. “I feel as though I have not slept properly in weeks, which is shameful as I spent a long time unconscious after the…after the attack on the village.”

He nodded, knowing that she was hurting and grieving over Ealan’s death. “You will take time to recover from that, spiritually,” he said. “And I will do all that I can to help you with that. I promise.”

She smiled over at him, safe and secure in the knowledge that he would keep his word, and he would indeed look after her.


	14. Chapter 14

** CHAPTER FOURTEEN **

****

The weeks that followed swept past in a whirlwind.

Thranduil arranged for rooms for Elu, which were right next to his. She smiled when she realised how close they would be. Her smile soon faded as she spent each night yearning for the elf asleep through the walls from her. When she slept, endless dreams of him tormented her, and she awoke each morning feeling drained.

Likewise, Thranduil was fighting the battle of his life. On the surface, his cool, calm façade remained watertight to anyone observing. Underneath, his blood simmered with the need to take her in his arms and make her his in every way possible. She passed him in the hallways and he noticed how her dress hugged her waist, making him want to put his hands on her and lift her from the floor to kiss her.

He noticed her bare feet as she padded around, and wanted to lift those feet onto his knees and massage them.

He noticed the sway of her hair against her lower back as she walked, and wanted to run his hands through it as she moaned with pleasure.

He noticed how her full breasts pushed against the fabric of her clothing, and his hands burned at the thought of caressing the soft flesh.

But his face never changed. His thoughts never showed. No-one had any idea of the lascivious images he had, or the burning need to bury himself deep inside her. Many times a day he mentally thanked the gods for the invention of long, loose robes as he fidgeted in discomfort.

Elu also noticed things.

His strong, confident stance as he made guards and Lords tremble before him without even uttering a word.

The arrogant walk as he went wherever he was going, his long strides full of purpose.

His large hands as he lifted his wine glass, making her wonder what pleasures those hands could bring.

His full mouth as he spoke, making her think of that soft mouth on her skin, wandering over her body, demanding and yet loving.

His long hair that flowed down his back, making her think of what it would be like to tangle her hands in it in the height of passion.

His ice blue eyes, making her imagine gazing into them as they made love.

More often than not, she had a deep ache that just wouldn’t be settled. And it was entirely the King’s fault.

When alone, they kissed. They cuddled. They touched each other fondly. But she was _burning_ for more, her body almost crying out with need for him. Her thoughts were dominated by images of him possessing her, taking her hard, making her scream. And it was driving her insane.

All she wanted was to feel his hands on her, his mouth kissing and licking her, his hair trailing over her naked flesh. Knowing that he desired her only fuelled her lust even further, making everyday life difficult to master.

Smouldering glances often passed over the heads of others, brief whispers of his hand brushing hers lightly as they passed, and the very faint lift of the corners of his mouth told her that he desired her too, just as much as she did him.

Propriety and standards were as frustrating as hell.

*****

Thranduil grunted in disgust and tossed a pile of documents across the polished desk. “One would be forgiven for assuming that I had nothing else to do with my time,” he snapped irritably. “The dwarves seem to think that all I do is read their petty attempts at increasing their trade and sign my name to them. Indeed I do not, and certainly not in this instance.”

“No, my Lord, I would agree whole-heartedly,” Melderion said as he gathered the strewn papers together. “I myself cannot see where this request for a change to the trade deal would benefit the realm.”

“That is because it would not,” the King retorted. “They are greedy. They want everything on their terms, and are difficult to reason with. Stubborn. Hard-headed. Obstinate. Tenacious. And they lack personal hygiene. They smell.”

The aide struggled to compose himself as he felt laughter bubble up inside him over his ruler’s irritation. “Not every race holds our standards, my Lord,” he replied as evenly as he could manage.

An eyebrow lifted. “ _No_ race could meet our standards,” he corrected haughtily. He drummed his fingers on the surface of the desk. “Where is Lady Elu?” he demanded.

“I am unaware of her whereabouts, my Lord, but I shall hasten to find out,” he replied, and scuttled off before his laughter broke through. Thranduil was fearsome when in a foul mood, but often he found him quite comical when he was irritated solely for the purpose of being irritated.

He returned to the King’s study a short while later, having found where the elleth in question was. “My Lord, Lady Elu is helping one of the maids replace the candles on the chandelier in the dining hall,” he informed.

“Very good,” he replied, his gaze focused on the scenery outside the window. “I intend on taking these trade requests to the Council meeting- what did you say? She is doing _what_?!”

Melderion straightened his face with every ounce of strength he had as Thranduil whipped round in the seat at speed to glare at him.

“She is helping-“

“I heard what you said!” he snapped as he rose from the chair. “Good grief! Can I not leave her alone for even a single moment without she is getting up to some sort of dangerous activity? Do I have to put her in the dungeons when I am unable to keep an eye on her?” Long strides carried him across the room and out of the door, and his aide gave in to his laughter as he disappeared.

He marched along the corridors, down stone steps, through archways and back up more steps, his cloak swirling around him as he walked. Reaching the dining hall, he stopped and stared at the sight before him in disbelief.

The large wooden table was in the usual place running down the centre of the massive room. A heavy seat had been placed up on top of it. Balanced on top of that, wobbling precariously as she stood on her tip-toes replacing the candles, was Elu. One hand gripped the heavy chandelier as the other twisted a thick white candle down onto the protruding spike. The maid she was supposed to be assisting stood on the floor with an armful of candles to pass up to her.

Thranduil powered forward with anger in his steps as he closed the distance between them.

Elu squealed in fright as two strong hands gripped her waist and lifted her down as though she weighed nothing. She turned as she was set down onto her feet, anger blazing in her blue eyes.

The look on his face stopped her immediately.

“Take your leave,” he ordered the maid, not taking his eyes off her.

The servant vanished promptly.

“Tell me, my Lady…why do I have servants for such tasks when you insist on shouldering the burden?” he questioned. His low voice was soft, warning her of impending danger.

“I…I wanted to…uhm…” She trailed off, not knowing how to answer without causing the spark that would be the catalyst for his temper.

The ice in his eyes started to melt. “Elu,” he whispered, stepping closer to her and framing her face with his hands. “Can you not see how precious you are to me? How much the dangerous things you do drives me out of my mind?” His eyes searched hers. “I cannot…I cannot understand…I only wish to protect you. Can you not see that, my love?”

“I was perfectly safe,” she told him as she lifted her hands and wrapped them around his wrists comfortingly. “And the candles needed to be replaced. I had nothing better to do.”

He gazed down at her for a moment before releasing her. She jumped as he swiped one hand outwards, the side of his hand striking against one of the back legs of the seat which was still on top of the table. The leg splintered and bounced as it broke free.

Ice blue eyes turned back to her. “The chair was not safe. I had ordered for it to be removed and destroyed only yesterday. Someone shall be punished for ignoring my commands as the infernal thing remains. If that leg had given way while you were upon it, you would have fallen.”

She swallowed. “I did not know,” she admitted. “It is just my luck to pick that one particular seat to stand on.”

He offered her a small smile. “I am contemplating locking you away whenever I am not able to be by your side,” he told her, humour in his voice. “That way I would know that you are safe and not climbing around my palace as though it was an adventure through the forest.”

“I have nothing to fill my time,” she moaned. “The day is long.”

“There is much you could do,” he told her as he slid his arm through hers and slowly walked her out of the dining hall. “You could ride the horses, with guards, of course. You could spend time with the foal that we helped into the world. There are countless flower vases-“

“I do not _want_ to ride with the guards, they make me feel uneasy,” she interrupted him.

“They will protect you.”

“Yes, I know, and I appreciate that. But it is not the same as being out riding with you,” she said. “And I spend lots of time with the foal and his mother. I am _not_ flower arranging.”

He laughed at her determination on the flower subject. “So what is left for you to do?”

She stopped, turning her body to face him. “I have nothing to do,” she said sadly.

He gazed down at her. “What would you _like_ to do?”

The question hung heavily between them.

Her pupils dilated instantly as her nipples hardened beneath her pale green dress. Her lips parted slightly as she breathed.

Thranduil noticed the subtle changes, his nostrils flaring in his silent acknowledgement. He slowly leaned his head down and brushed his mouth over hers in a soft kiss. She whimpered in response and parted her lips further, silently begging him to deepen the contact.

He did.

Desire and lust swept over her in waves as she slid her hands up over his broad shoulders. His hands settled on her lower back and crushed her body flush against his as he took their kiss to the next level. His tongue explored her mouth and she moaned softly, her own responding in kind. The hard stone wall pressed against her back as he pushed her against it, devouring her with growing passion.

“I cannot take much more of this,” she panted as he broke away from her mouth and dived for her neck instead.

Large hands gripped her backside and hauled her against the hardness of his groin. “You do not have to, if you do not wish,” he whispered against her skin. “I can always stop.”

“That is not what I meant,” she said. Her fingers ran through his long hair, holding him tightly against her as she arched her head back. “I need _more._ ”

He went still in her arms, then pulled back to stare down at her. The seconds ticked past as his eyes searched hers. His jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth together. “You are aware of what this would mean?” he whispered raggedly. “You would belong completely to me; none other.”

She nodded. “I know.”

His eyes darkened. “I am jealous and possessive of that which is mine. I will remove the eyes of any other who looks at you in the way that I do. I will take the hand of any who attempts to touch you in the way that I do. I will end the life of any who desires you in the way that I do. You will be _mine_ ; once you bond with me, you can never undo it.”

“I would never wish to undo it,” she told him. “I _want_ to be with you. I _want_ for you to lust after me, to touch me, to have me in ways that none other ever have or ever will. I _want_ to belong to you.”

His heart pounded hard in his chest as he read the truth and honesty in her eyes, and heard her soul speak in her answer. Moving suddenly, he swooped down and crushed his mouth against hers, kissing her with bruising passion as he lifted her. She clung tightly to him, returning his kiss as he carried her along the hallway.

Before she knew it, he had reached his chambers and kicked the door open, placed her on her feet and booted it closed again. Swiftly locking it, he turned back to her, his chest heaving as he panted for breath.

“I want for you to be sure,” he said. Both hands trailed through her hair as he spoke. “I do not want you to feel rushed, or hurried into anything.”

She lifted herself up onto her toes and pressed her open mouth to his, causing him to groan in surrender. “I am sure, Thranduil,” she murmered against his warm flesh. “I want nothing else, only this. Make me yours, in every way.”

A deep moan rumbled from the depths of his core; one which spoke of his loss in the battle to preserve her purity for as long as possible and to do what was expected of him. Her soft body pressed against his chased away any remaining fragments of logic, any feeble thoughts on how he should focus on their courtship and his impending marriage proposal before bedding her. Warm lips against his and her wet tongue exploring his mouth kicked reality out of the situation as he gave in to her.

“I knew that you would be my undoing,” he whispered harshly. His mouth wandered down her neck, hungrily sucking, biting, and licking as he panted hard. Clumsy fingers fought with the ties on the back of her dress in an effort to rid her of the garment. The fastenings seemed to confuse him in his haste, so he gave up and ripped the fabric instead.

Elu pulled away from him and started to laugh. “You only had to say that you could not undo it,” she told him as her eyes sparkled. “I would have did it for you, you crazy ellon.”

“I cannot wait,” he grumbled, diving in for another kiss. “I will have a hundred more made for you. A thousand more. Each one adorned with the most precious gems in Middle Earth.” His words came out as a distorted mumble as he spoke into her kiss. “The very best seamstresses will decorate them in such ways that the stars will fade in their beauty in comparison.” More hurried kisses as the dress slid off her shoulders and landed in a pool at her feet. “Kings from all over will come to see your beauty.” Trembling hands swept up her arms, over her shoulders, and down the smooth skin of her back. “Races will gather from unknown lands. Legions will enlist to protect you and accompany you wherever you go.” His head twisted as he dropped hungry kisses back down her neck.

She leaned into his embrace with a sigh of pleasure as she undid the front of his tunic and pushed it aside. Hot skin tingled under her hands as she explored the expanse of flesh she revealed, accompanied by helpless moans as his body reacted to her touch. “You fantasise, my King,” she whispered as she licked just below his ear.

A deep shudder rippled through him as he straightened to his full height. “I do not jest,” he panted. “There is no other equal to your beauty, or your charisma. Perhaps the daughters that we will have may carry your beauty, but none else.”

Her eyes widened slightly as she gazed up at him towering over her.

“I intend to marry you,” he whispered. His head lowered until his full mouth hovered a hair’s breadth over her own. “I intend on making you my Queen, and if you are willing, to have children with you. I know within my heart that you will birth beautiful babies, and our children will be as strong, courageous, and as pure-spirited as you are, my darling.”

She gasped as his lips gently swept over hers, igniting a flame that roared to an inferno. Bursts of energy ripped through her body and spread right through to her fingers and toes. As he impatiently shrugged out of his tunic and gently lowered her onto his massive bed, she felt her soul open up to him. Every cell within her blasted to life in a surge of awareness; knowledge and feelings that she had never known before swept through her and engulfed her.

His body pressed against hers as between them, they freed each other from the remaining garments, until heated flesh met equally heated flesh. Limbs entangled, breathless kisses shared, and pleasure taken as hands wandered and explored.

“Thranduil,” she panted. “I need you. I need you now, my love.”

“There is so much for me to show you, so much pleasure for me to bestow upon you,” he whispered raggedly as he rained kisses along her shoulder.

“And we have forever to experience such delights,” she told him. She wound her fingers into his hair and held him still, making him look down into her eyes. “Make me yours, Thranduil. Make me yours in heart, body, and soul. Let me become one with you.”

He swallowed as his nerves stretched to breaking point. His eyes never left hers as he lifted her leg and settled it around his waist. “Stop me if it becomes too much,” he said hoarsely. “Promise me.”

She nodded.

Very slowly, still holding her gaze, he nudged his hard flesh into her soft core. A groan of intense pleasure erupted from the back of his throat as she closed around him; hot, tight and wet for him. His nostrils flared as he fought for the last remaining shreds of control. Her welcoming body slowly adjusted to his intrusion, gripping him and holding him deep within her.

He opened his mouth to ask if she was alright.

“Keep going, my love,” she whispered, before he could get the chance to speak. Her hands tugged him down so that his mouth settled against hers, and she kissed him deeply as he pushed the rest of the way in.

His hands bunched into fists on the pillow on either side of her head and the muscles in his upper arms trembled as he struggled to hold his position, allowing her time to accept him and become used to him.

A smile graced her mouth under his, and she lifted her other leg to wrap it around his waist.

“I love you,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers and staring deeply into her blue eyes. “I love you more than anyone would ever be capable. I love you beyond imagination, my little Bluebird.”

Her nose brushed his as she tipped up slightly to kiss him. “I love you too; my ruler, my Lord, my King. I give you my heart, my soul, and my body for eternity.”

His hips finally started to move, starting with slow thrusts that gradually went deeper into rolling ones. Her body moved in perfect synchronisation with his as though they were made to be together. Harsh, panting breaths transferred between them as the heat between them grew. Passion burned as the skies above seemed to implode around them. Energy and awareness blazed through the two of them as they rolled across the bed together, locked in the ultimate joining of both their physical beings as well as their souls.

Thranduil’s hands found hers and he folded his fingers in between hers. She squeezed tightly as the coil of tension within her tightened. Every muscle, every nerve ending, every fibre of her being teetered on a frighteningly sheer drop, and she was almost afraid to let go. Only the God in her arms gave her the confidence to trust in him and to release herself to him.

“Let go, little Bluebird,” he whispered in her ear as he felt the changes in her body. “Let go, spread those wings, and fly. I will catch you, I promise.”

His soft words sparked something inside her, and the pleasure became unbearable as he continued to thrust into her. Her back arched up off the bed as she clung to him, her desperate begging reaching his ears.

Her body exploded and she screamed his name, tears of passion escaping as everything around her vanished into an endless vortex of bright white. Her arms and legs gripped him as she trembled violently, and his arms locked tightly around her. His body moved faster into hers, and he climaxed with a howl as the pleasure consumed him.

“Breathe, my darling, breathe,” he panted. Gentle hands lifted her hair away from her face and soft kisses touched her cheeks and lips as she fought to ground herself. “Breathe, my love.”

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she lay beneath him. The tingling sensation she’d felt as they’d began to undress each other continued, sparkling little sensations that flowed through her bloodstream.

“Can you feel that?” she whispered with a sleepy smile.

He smiled back. “Yes. I can. Our souls are truly bonded as one, and shall always be so. Nothing can part us, ever.”

She closed her eyes and pulled him down to her so that his head rested on her shoulder. One hand trailed up the smooth skin of his back, and the other toyed gently with his silken hair.

She felt complete.


	15. Chapter 15

** CHAPTER FIFTEEN **

****

Four days later.

Elu awoke to bright sunlight, and rolled over as she touched the bed looking for her mate. The bed was empty.

She sat up with a frown and yawned. Her eyes squinted against the bright light as she looked around the room. Thranduil had spent most of the previous day locked away with his top Councillors and guards and she had hardly seen him. No doubt this day was going to be similar in that aspect.

The covers swept back onto the bed as she swung her legs out and stood on her feet. Within an instant, a knock sounded at the door.

“My Lady, is everything well?” one of the maids called through. “May I assist you?”

“Everything is well,” she called back. “And no, I do not need assistance yet. I am still resting.”

“Very good, my Lady,” the reply came. “Please call me when you need me.”

Elu shook her head as she made her way to wash and freshen herself. The maid had followed her around like a lost puppy over the last couple of weeks, even more so since her union with Thranduil. It irritated her a little, while he found it amusing. The servants, he’d said, were there to see to her every need.

They annoyed her.

He was used to them, and kept them busy around the clock. Several times he’d laughed heartily at her grumbling, telling her that she should utilise their services. They had a job to do, and that job revolved around making sure that she wanted for nothing.

An angry glare had made him laugh more, much to the amazement of the maids and guards.

She washed herself and decided to settle into a beautiful dress which had mysteriously appeared in his wardrobe, along with the rest of her clothes. The fabric was a deep peach colour with darker peach embroidered leaves swirling around the hem. The cloth was as soft as the skin of the fruit itself, and felt luxurious as she slid into it. She twisted her long black hair into a tight pleat and let the tail drop down her back.

The maid gasped as she opened the door to Thranduil’s chambers and stepped out into the hallway.

“My Lady! I am here to assist you!” she said in shock.

“Thankyou, but sometimes I like to tend to my own needs,” she replied, as politely as she could. “Have you seen the King this morning?”

“No, my Lady. I have not,” she answered. “Shall I enquire as to his whereabouts?”

“No. I will find him,” she said. “I will be in the dining hall having breakfast, if you should see him before I do.”

“Of course, my Lady.” The maid bowed deeply and disappeared inside the royal chambers to clean them.

Elu’s eyes met those of the guard that stood at the end of the hallway, and he struggled to keep his lips straight. On more than one occasion he’d heard her patiently but firmly tell the maid to busy herself elsewhere, and it had become a point of humour amongst those Thranduil had assigned to protect her.

Or threatened with their limbs, their internal organs, their heads and their very lives if they failed to protect her.

She tried unsuccessfully to keep her own face straight as she passed, finally resorting to holding her finger to her lips in a _shhh_ gesture. The guard dipped his head in acknowledgement, staying silent. She continued onwards and headed down to the dining hall, where she requested sliced melon and a cup of hot tea. The servant who had been waiting solely for her disappeared with a bow and returned a few moments later with what she’d asked for.

“Do you know the whereabouts of the King?” she asked as he turned to leave.

“My Lady, he and several patrol units left not an hour past,” he replied.

She frowned. “Where did he go?”

“To the forest, my Lady. Two of our guards were slaughtered by orcs the day before yesterday, and he has gone to seek justice,” the servant told her. “The spiders attacked with the orcs, and are rumoured to be nesting close to the site of the slaughter.”

He bowed again and left her alone with her thoughts. Her gaze lowered to the fruit in front of her, then to the cup of tea.

She stood abruptly, startling the few workers in the Hall.

“My Lady? Is everything well?” one asked in concern.

“Yes,” she replied over her shoulder. Her bare feet moved quickly and carried her out of the room and down the labyrinth of hallways.

“My Lady!”

She stopped and turned to see the guard who had been stationed in the corridor of the royal chambers. He clattered towards her, panting under the weight of his armour and weapons.

“My Lady – something vexes you,” he gasped as he came to a halt with a short bow. “Please allow me to assist.”

She stared at him for a few seconds. “The King has gone to the forest to battle the orcs and spiders,” she said. “I intend on going to him.”

The ellon’s eyes widened in horror. “It is unsafe! The King would have my head!”

“The King will not,” she replied. “Will you accompany me?”

His eyes darted around nervously. “My Lord Thranduil warned me with my life not to let you out of my sight,” he said. “He made me promise on those that I hold dear that I would keep you safe and free from harm. He will exact his revenge on my wife and children if I go against his command.”

She took a step towards him and placed a hand on his arm. “If I do not go, he will not return,” she said quietly. “He will not survive to return as your King.”

The guard studied her warily. “I have heard much of you,” he whispered eventually. “Of your powers. Your strength. Your bond with the King. I will accompany you, my Lady. May the Gods and my Lord have mercy on me and prove what I have heard to be correct.”

She nodded once, and resumed hurrying to her destination. A warm breeze played with the hem of her dress as she stepped out onto the courtyard and made her way towards the stables, where the mare she and Thranduil had helped eyed her approach. Her hand lifted and settled gently on the horse’s nose, and the animal blinked as she studied her.

“I need your help,” she said softly. “Will you help me in my hour of need?”

The beautiful copper-coloured mare snorted in reply. Elu smiled and opened the stable door, and she ambled out onto the courtyard.

“My Lady, please tell me that you have given this much thought,” the guard pleaded as he hurried towards a saddled horse further along. “I fear for what you are about to do.”

“Release your fear, my friend,” she told him as she agilely swung herself up onto Taralorn’s broad back. “If I do not do this, then this kingdom will have no ruler by the time the moon rises this night. I have no choice; my instinct is too strong. The King does not realise the danger he is in, and he does not know of his fate. I do. And I must change that fate, else Mirkwood and all who reside here will fall and crumble into ashes.”

Anxious grey eyes held hers as the mare moved restlessly, eager to carry out whatever task her rider had in mind. “Then let us waste no time, my Lady,” he said finally, turning his mount. “My sword and my soul are yours to command… _my Queen_.”

Dark blue eyes widened in surprise at his words, but he had already turned away and was headed for the main gates leading to the open bridge. Urging the mare forwards, she followed him and they galloped across it into the dense forest.

Miles flew past under the sure-footed animals as they raced through the woodlands. The thick canopy of leaves high above them sheltered them from the burning rays of the sun, but also succeeded in shrouding the forest in dark shadow. The air was thick and clammy around them, with Elu’s sharpened senses picking up a growing perception of evil. The feeling wafted towards her in waves as she rode alongside her guard, and gave her an uneasy feeling in the depths of her stomach.

This was no ordinary battle she was closing in on.

This was a battle which would determine the future of the entire realm, and those who belonged to it. This was a battle designed and intended to end the life of Thranduil, to make the entire kingdom fall and those within it perish.

This was an attempt to change everything the elves had ever known and aspired for.

Trees hurtled past as the horses sped onwards, each step bringing them closer and closer to the impending slaughter that she knew she was going to face. She already knew deep within her heart that many of her kin had fallen, but she could feel her lover’s spirit and knew that for now, he still lived. That thought urged her on.

Cries and roars of war reached the ears of the two riders long before they descended on the scene of the fighting. Screams of pain, howls of anger, furiously shouted black speech, commanding yells in elvish filtered through the woodlands. The sound of steel crashing against steel, of horses screeching in terror. Spiders hissing and snarling, orcs growling and bellowing.

She pulled her horse to a halt and slid off her back, landing with both feet together on the soft grass. Her guard dismounted at speed, his weapons already drawn and ready for battle.

Chaos was unfolding before her.

Dark blue eyes slowly looked around, absorbing every detail. Dead bodies covered the ground as far as she could see, and the stench of death and blood made it difficult to breathe. Bright red and thick black blood stained the grass and the surrounding trees. Weapons lay discarded, dropped at the point of death. Grotesque corpses lay in twisted and disembodied arrangements.

Her gaze zeroed in on Thranduil.

His long blonde hair whipped around him as he moved at speed. Both swords slashed with expert precision, slicing down enemy after enemy. His armour was stained and dented. Blood streaked across his perfect face. His expression was cold and calculated – his mind was on one single track, and that was to kill.

Nothing more.

The noise was deafening as the battle raged on. She let her hand drop from her horse’s side and slowly stepped forwards. The hem of her dress snagged on the flight of an arrow protruding from a dead elf at her feet, but she didn’t notice. Leaves and dried twigs snapped under her bare feet as she walked.

Her gaze remained on her lover.

He spun around bringing both blades outwards and the massive spiders on either side of him screeched in agony as the steel sliced through them. They fell to the forest floor, wriggling and fighting to survive the deadly strike.

He froze.

A vision of beauty in a figure-hugging peach dress was making her way through the carnage, heading straight for him.

_Elu?!_

He blinked, not trusting his own eyes.

Her blue eyes held him stock-still as his heart began to thump irregularly beneath his armour. The sounds of the war raging around him seemed to fade as he stared at her in disbelief.

“Elu?” he whispered. “Elu? _ELU_?!” His voice rose to a roar. Panic flooded through his veins. Shock crashed into his system, rendering him helpless. He whipped his head from side to side, searching for answers as to what he was witnessing.

The guard at her side fought vigorously as he defended her from the ongoing attack. Predators from all sides had spotted her and were closing in on her, but she didn’t see them. Her eyes never left his.

“Protect her!” he roared, his powerful bellow echoing off the trees.

A thick shower of arrows rained down from the trees and dropped the front line of advancing orcs. Guards leapt into position to defend her. Evil converged on all sides as the enemy realised they had an easy target.

Thranduil’s eyes filled with tears as he watched her approach. The knowledge that she was going to die tore through him, slicing his heart more efficiently that any blade in Middle Earth. Screams and howls rang out as the battle intensified.

She held out both hands as she closed the distance between them, and his swords fell to the forest floor as he instinctively reached for her.

Words failed him – he had nothing to say as his grief overtook all else.

Her wrists tilted so that her palms faced him, and he automatically did likewise. Her fingers folded in between his as their hands met, her eyes still on his.

His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

He jumped as a blast of energy surged through their joined hands. Pain radiated through his body. The energy continued to pulse in a strong rhythm.

Tears began to roll down his perfect face as she gazed up into his ice blue eyes. But he remained silent. He stayed still, not moving a muscle. The carnage continued around them.

“Tell our kind to climb the trees,” she whispered softly.

His eyebrows came down slightly in confusion, but he took a deep breath and shouted in elvish for his company to climb the nearest tree. Orcs and spiders spun around, bewildered, as their opponents suddenly dropped their weapons and shot upwards into branches above their heads.

Elu released one of Thranduil’s hands and closed her eyes. Her arm stretched outwards as the air around the two of them distorted and shimmered. She turned her hand so that her palm was facing downwards, facing the ground, and his hold on her other hand tightened as the ground beneath them vibrated violently.

The elves in the trees were silent, peering through the leaves as they watched what was about to unfold beneath them. Their King looked as though his heart was going to break, while his mate slowly lowered her head and leaned against his chest.

Up in one of the trees, Legolas smiled to himself.

 _This_ was why she had come into his father’s life.

 _This_ was why he’d been dreaming of her for three hundred years.

 _This_ was the fate of the Mirkwood realm; the reason that the two had to meet and fall in love.

Elu held the power to rid the kingdom of the darkness and the evil that had festered and spread for thousands of years, but she needed his father’s love and the bond of his spirit to fulfil her destiny.

She lifted her head as a crowd of orcs rushed towards the two of them, united and shoulder to shoulder with each other, advancing like a solid wall. Her hand flipped  again so that her palm was facing away from her and the shock wave from her radiated outwards. Everything in the pulsating wavelength distorted and blurred as her energy surged from her.

The orcs stumbled as they came to a halt, screeching in agony. The beasts on the front line writhed as pain tore through them, their faces contorted in agony.

Everybody in the vicinity jumped in terror as the first row of orcs exploded in a burst of flame, howls and screeches dying out as they fell to the ground in smouldering heaps, the flames vanishing almost immediately. The second row met the same fate. The third row took hesitant steps backwards, crashing into those behind them.

Elu turned her head, finally breaking her calm demeanour. Rage flared in the depths of her dark blue eyes. Hatred pulsed from her in a dense wave. Fury surged through her body, causing her to tremble with the force. Thranduil’s grip on her hand remained steady as he listened to his inner instinct telling him that she needed his strength to anchor her as her power grew stronger. Flames burst to life as the orcs combusted, and many of them began to scurry away. Her body turned as her reach extended, the energy surge taking out those fleeing to safety.

The spiders changed direction and flew up the trees in search of an escape from the magic flowing from her. Each one exploded before reaching even halfway, falling to the ground in pieces as they succumbed to the heat and fire.

Higher up, the elves watched in silent awe.

Legions of both orcs and spiders died in violent agony as the ground vibrated and rumbled around the King and Elu. Scores of them fell, each one screaming as the air was sucked from them and death closed in. The terror went on and on, seeming to never come to an end. The elves clung to the branches they sat on, and Thranduil clung as tightly as he could to her hand.

Still the carnage continued.

An eerie silence descended over the forest as the last vile creature crashed to the ground in a contorted mess. The air went back to normal as the distortion ebbed and became clear again. Not a thing moved. Not a sound could be heard.

Elu’s eyes rolled back as her legs folded beneath her and she collapsed into Thranduil’s arms.

*****

Legolas closed the heavy wooden door and rested his hand on the brass handle for a few moments.

“My Lord-“

“My father does not wish to be disturbed,” he said, interrupting the well-meaning servant. “Under no circumstances does anyone enter. He requires solitude and peace. Ensure that he is given this during his hour of need.”

The servant bowed and fled.

The Prince took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The times that lay ahead would be hard. He pushed himself away from the door and headed in the direction of his own chambers, nodding to the two guards to resume their position.

Behind the carved wooden door, Thranduil sat with his head lowered. His long blonde hair flowed down his back, over slumped shoulders that carried the weight of the world. His eyes were closed, and he focused on breathing calming, even breaths.

Gentle fingers settled on his cheeks and tilted his head upwards; a warm mouth meeting his softly in a tender kiss. His lips parted instantly as he responded, welcoming the feeling of warmth that flowed through his chilled body.

“You over-think, my King,” Elu said quietly, a smile hovering around her mouth as she pulled back a little. Her blue eyes sparkled as she gazed into his.

He held her gaze for several moments. Taking a deep breath, he found the strength to speak. “You almost died.”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“You almost lost your life…for me.”

Again, she nodded. “Yes.”

Tears filled the ice blue and tipped over, and she leaned down to gently press her lips to his cheek to halt their path.

“You cannot question my motives, nor my love for you,” she told him. “My destiny has remained unchanged since the day I was born. Even the great, powerful King Thranduil cannot alter the course of my fate. What happened was supposed to happen. I now know why I was meant to be united as one with you.”

His anguished eyes held hers as he swallowed. “You are worth more than anything in this realm, anything that I own or possess,” he whispered.

She inhaled through her nose and lowered herself to sit on her knees on the floor, between his thighs. “My mother told me when she was dying that I carried a deep, inner magic,” she told him. “She said that I would accomplish great things, but I needed my soulmate to do this. He carried within him the power to be the catalyst for my own. Without you, I could not have done what I did out in the forest. _You_ are the one who brings my magic to life, only you. And although it may sound like romanticised rubbish, I am not complete without you.” Thick, dark lashes blinked as she stared up at him.

He looked away, his chest heaving as he dragged air into his lungs. “I thought you were going to die out there,” he said softly as he turned to look back down at her.

Her hands found his and held on tightly.

“All I could see were hundreds of evil beasts with you in their sights. Yet you walked through them as though they were not there.” His eyes shone with unshed tears. “I could not even begin to think why you were there.”

A soft smile curved the corners of her mouth. “I was doing what I was born to do,” she answered. “The darkness will gradually recede from Mirkwood; all evil will fade away through time.”

“My scouts tell me that in the week that has passed, many orcs have fled the lands. Spiders’ nests have been abandoned, and there has been no sign of any further invasion,” he said. “They say that the sick feeling in the woodlands is beginning to lessen.”

Her smile grew. “That is good news,” she said. “That is what I was aiming for on my quest. It will not be long before new growth begins to show within the realm.”

“I owe you everything,” he whispered. “Everything. My kingdom, my life.”

“No, you do not,” she corrected, lifting herself up onto her knees. “You owe me nothing. All I ask for is your love and your loyalty. Nothing more.”

“You will _always_ have that, my little Bluebird. Always.” His head lowered as he touched his full, warm mouth to hers. She let go of his hands and slid them up over his chest to cross over at the back of his neck.

Somewhere far out in the forest, a tiny bud slowly unfurled, the green protective leaves peeling back to expose petals in a rich orange hue that mirrored the colour of a flame. Sunlight streamed through a gap in the leaves and gently kissed the petals with light and warmth.

The flower uncurled further, having not blossomed in thousands of years.

The flame of life was burning again, alongside the flame of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so another story draws to a close. Thranduil has faced up to the fact that the past has gone, and embraced the future that lies ahead for him. Elu has filfilled her dying mother's prophecy and bonded with her soulmate, battling the odds that seemed destined to keep them apart. And true to the words spoken to her as a child, he had the inner power to make her own flourish.
> 
> Thankyou as always to my loyal readers, old and new, and for all your encouraging and amazing comments. I apologise if I haven't replied to every single one; I do try but sometimes I miss the odd one here and there. Each one of you are amazing for staying with me, and with any luck I'll see you all again in a couple of weeks when my new work hits the screens x


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